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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25846126">Held Hostage I: Imprisoned</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/theclaraschumann/pseuds/theclaraschumann'>theclaraschumann</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Held Hostage [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Blushing, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, F/M, Happy Ending, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Imprisonment, Interrogation, Light Dom/sub, Light Sadism, Mildly Dubious Consent, Minor Violence, Porn With Plot, Post-War, Protectiveness, Public Nudity, Sexual Tension, Sirius Black Lives, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Vaginal Fingering, smaller age gap</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:14:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>18,399</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25846126</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/theclaraschumann/pseuds/theclaraschumann</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After six years of peace, a band of so-called Neo-Death Eaters have captured Hermione and a recently-revived Sirius. They'll try anything to find out where Harry and his family have gone into hiding. </p><p>...</p><p>"Oh, very mature," Hermione rolled her eyes. She willed the blush away from her face. "Well. The Aurors will find us sooner or later, and we're going to be stuck with each other until then. So. If you could calm down.”  </p><p>“You were right,” he said, still laughing at her. “We'll just have to wait it out.” </p><p>This was, she had to admit, not the worst way an argument between her and Sirius had ended. That bloody grin...</p><p>...</p><p>“Are you okay?” Sirius murmured. She felt more healing charms. She tried to follow the tingle of magic as it trickled from the surface, dissipating down deeper under her flesh. </p><p>...</p><p>Lestrange's face was at the window. “No curses or hexes on the docket today, Black,” he sneered. “I had something else in mind.”</p><p>Sirius felt his blood run cold. If he so much as laid a finger on her…</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sirius Black/Hermione Granger</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Held Hostage [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1895887</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>79</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>273</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Cellmates</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is my first complete* work, and one of many Hermione/Sirius fics I've been wanting to put to paper. Would love to hear your feedback - thanks for reading! </p><p>*The story is finished, but I like to refine as I go - will be posting a chapter every few days until the 8th and final one :)</p>
    </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>8/15/20: New art! I made it, but I must credit the amazing LovesBitca8 for the inspiration on how to lay everything out (incredible writer too).</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>“You’re going to bloody rot in Azkaban for this,” Hermione growled. Her captor dragged her down a dim hallway as she kicked, screamed, and sent bursts of uncontrolled magic in all directions. “When the Aurors find you—”</p><p>“<em>Petrificus Totalus,</em>” he mumbled, and she felt her limbs snap to her sides. “Mouthy little Mudblood. You will speak with <em>respect </em>when you address a Death Eater.” He swished his wand, clumsily levitating her beside him as he turned around a corner.</p><p><em>You mean</em> <em>Neo-Death Eater</em>, she thought, seething. When she’d first read the phrase in the <em>Prophet </em>a few months ago she’d rolled her eyes at the sensationalist new ‘term’. The handful of wizards responsible for the crimes in their fallen lord’s name were nothing more than a disorganized band of thieves—hardly worthy of any label at all, let alone one that recalled that horrific regime wizardkind had worked to extinguish over six years ago. </p><p>Even as their criminal activities increased, most in Hermione’s circle didn’t consider them to be truly dangerous. That is, until Harry and his unborn child started receiving death threats at home. He’d taken a temporary leave and gone into hiding with Ginny while the Neo-Death Eaters were investigated. </p><p>Hermione wondered where she was being taken now. Unable to move her eyes, she did her best to try to memorize the number of steps and turns they had taken from the room she’d been held in for the last couple of days. Suddenly, she felt her body jerk to a stop. Keys jingled and a door opened. Her jailer grabbed her by the hood of her jumper and cast the unbinding spell, shoving her toward the door.   </p><p>She seized her chance. “<em> Stupefy! </em>” she cried, dragging two fingers sharply down toward her target. It fizzled. </p><p>“<em>Silencio! </em>” he spat, and it caught her on the forearm. Magic crackled at her fingertips as he shoved her through the door and slammed it behind her. </p><p>Someone knelt beside her. “Hermione.” She was surprised to hear Sirius’ voice. “They got you too?” he said, as she thought the same thing. “Are you hurt?” </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Where is it?” Lestrange screamed, raising his wand at her. When she only spat at his feet, he fired another Stinging Jinx at her, this time hitting her under her ribcage. She felt her skin burn and swell.  </em>
</p><p>He will tire, <em> she reminded herself. </em> You’ve seen worse than schoolyard jinxes. Eventually he will give up. <em> She watched him pace for another minute before he turned on her again.  </em></p><p>
  <em> “It’s where his Mudblood mother died isn’t it? Isn’t it!” He grabbed her jumper, lifting her off the floor. She said nothing. “Where is he!” He seemed to be asking himself as much as he was her. With a yell, he cast an Expulso Curse at the wall behind her.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>She shrugged and shook her head, taking in their surroundings. This room was similar to the one down the hall that they had put her in originally. Garden level, with two other doors, presumably to a closet and toilet like the other one had. About the size of a bedroom. <em> I suppose they </em> are <em> bedrooms, technically, </em> she thought, glancing at the thin twin mattress on the floor. The main door she’d just come through had a small window in it, like the first room. The guards had made frequent use of that window in their interrogations, being too cowardly to face a wandless imprisoned witch in the same room most of the time.</p><p>Her gaze fell on Sirius again. His eyes were wide, wild even. She was reminded of the way he’d looked before he’d come back, during the war. Not particularly well-rested, but hyper alert. She frowned, wondering why they had moved her to this room, with him. <em> Had more been captured? </em></p><p>Suddenly she remembered her manners. ‘<em> You?’ </em>she mouthed, tilting her head. </p><p>“Hmm?”</p><p>She clasped a hand over her throat and shrugged her shoulders. ‘<em>Are you hurt? </em>’ she tried.</p><p>He shook his head. “I’m shite at reading lips,” he said by way of apology. </p><p>She waved it off with a sigh, wondering how long it would be until the silencing spell wore off. Restless, she got up and walked around the room. The door handle jiggled but didn’t move. She pointed to the window, raising her eyebrows at Sirius.  </p><p>“Warded.” He shook his head. “Same with the door, I’m sure you saw. I’ve tried all the counterspells I can think of.”</p><p>‘<em>Spells?’ </em>she mouthed in surprise, eyeing his pockets and sleeves. </p><p>“Sorry, what?” </p><p>Her brow knitted in frustration. She exaggeratedly pretended to wave the wand she did not have. </p><p>“Right, no, they took that,” he said. “But I’m not bad without a wand,” he said with a little smirk. </p><p><em> Of course! </em> She pointed to her mouth excitedly, eyebrows lifted in question. </p><p>“Oh,” he said, crossing the room to where his tray from that morning still sat. He picked it up, eying it warily. “I haven’t actually tried any of the food yet. I know poison is probably a long shot, seeing as they seem to want us alive, but I had concerns about potions…” </p><p>She stomped her foot, shaking her head. He gave her another quizzical glance. She took the tray from him and set it firmly on the floor. Standing up, she pointed again at her mouth, covering her throat with the other hand. ‘<em> You dense git </em>,’ she mouthed. She questioned, not for the first time, whether Sirius’ years behind the veil had unseen effects on his mental capacity. </p><p>“Oh. Sorry,” he muttered, pink creeping up his neck as he finally realized her meaning. He cast a <em> Finite </em>with a twist and swoop of his hand. </p><p>She coughed, finding her voice again. “Really, Sirius,” she wasted no time in beginning to chide him, “we’re going to have to work <em> together </em>if we want to get out of here before we lose our minds.”</p><p>“Right, I—”</p><p>“—That’s why I had been mouthing. You know, with no sound coming out?”</p><p>“I know, I just didn’t—”</p><p>“Didn’t <em> listen </em>,” she continued, not listening. </p><p>“I was listening!” he jumped in, raising his voice. “But there wasn’t much to hear, was there?”</p><p>“<em>That’s what I wanted you to help with, </em>” she said between gritted teeth.</p><p>“And I have! You just wanted it immediately, and perfectly cast without a wand, is that it?”</p><p>“I never said that, it’s, it’s—” she searched, “—the principle! I swear, sometimes I think if it’s not about Quidditch or that motorbike you don’t seem very interested in paying attention to anyone!”</p><p>“You just found out I’ve been captured by Death Eaters and the first thing out of your mouth is that I’m not observant enough? There are bigger things, Hermione—they want to kill Harry, do you realize—”</p><p>“Of course I realize! Some of us spent years helping Harry not get killed!”</p><p>“Well forgive me for being <em> dead at the time </em>,” he fumed. He gave her a long look, jaw working. Finally, he picked up the tray and set it down in front of the door, then took a seat on the mattress.  </p><p>She released her fingers that had been balled at her hips. “We’ll be found soon, I’m sure. And I don’t believe Harry—or us, for that matter—were not in real danger. His secret is safe, we just need to wait it out. So. If you could calm down.” She turned on her heel, yanked open the door to the loo and stepped inside. </p><p>With another huff, she stepped out of what was actually the closet and tried the other door. This one did turn out to be the loo. She slammed the door behind her. Hearing the muffled sound of Sirius chuckling, she turned the water on and pressed her lips together. Her cheeks were deep scarlet. She smoothed her curls, breathing slowly through her nose. Turning off the tap, she heard that he was still laughing.  </p><p>“What?” she nearly shouted, throwing open the door. </p><p>“I’m sorry,” he said, suppressing another fit of giggles. “I…” </p><p>“Just let me know when you’re finished then, yeah?” she said, face burning. </p><p>“I am!” he said, still chuckling. “I am. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he grinned, eyes glinting.  </p><p>Her anger dissipated, but her face felt even hotter. She fixed her eyes on the floor.</p><p>“I… fuck, I <em> am </em> sorry,” he continued, still smiling, “I haven’t spoken to anyone that doesn’t want to kill me in, I think about two or three days, you know? And then they throw you in here, and I’m actually almost relieved to see a familiar face, you know, but then you jump down my throat—” </p><p>She opened her mouth to protest, but he backtracked smoothly, “for being such a dense git, of course.”</p><p>“Oh so now you can read lips?”</p><p>“Well that one you really enunciated. Anyway, then you storm off into the closet<em> —Circe </em>,” he started to chuckle again. </p><p>She could still feel the heat in her cheeks. Half heartedly she mumbled that the layout had been different in the other room. </p><p>This was, she had to admit, not the worst way an argument between her and Sirius had ended. <em> That bloody grin </em>, she thought, looking away again.</p><p>“You were right,” he said, collecting himself. “We just have to wait it out.”</p><p>“Good.” She puffed out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “Well, let’s start by comparing notes. You said Lestrange has been coming by, have there been any others?”</p><p>------------------</p><p>They spent the rest of the day filling each other in on their time in captivity. No, Hermione hadn’t had any luck with the windows or door in her original room either. Yes, they’d both been interrogated, though the attempts were rather tame compared to what they had endured during the war. No, Sirius didn’t have any clues as to where they were being held, or where their wands were, either. </p><p>That evening found Hermione practicing her wandless magic on a moth she’d found. She would stun it, usually taking at least five tries, and then attempt to revive it so she could start over again. As it fluttered about lethargically, she wondered if she was getting better at stunning or just worse at reviving. </p><p>“Not going so good?” came Sirius’ voice from the other side of the room. </p><p>“I’ve never gotten much of a chance to practice without a wand,” she defended. “And of course now that I really need to I literally can’t access a library.” </p><p>He snorted. </p><p>She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re the expert, aren’t you? You do it, then.” </p><p>“I just laughed because… I didn’t learn much of it from books. Just practice.” </p><p>“Right, which is what I’m doing.”</p><p>“Mmhmm. I had a lot of practice though, remember?” From across the room, he raised a finger and swept sharply downwards. A thin beam of red light hit the moth and it twirled gracefully down, landing at her feet. “About twelve years.”</p><p>She swallowed, remembering herself. “It’s quite—quite shite luck, really, that <em> you </em>had to be captured. Again, I mean.”</p><p>He gave a clipped laugh. “Used to it, aren’t I?”</p><p>She watched him as he crossed the room to sit near her. Sirius was something of a puzzle. When she didn’t want to smack him for being as immature and stubborn as the boys were at Hogwarts, she was feeling sorry for him; for the friends and the family and the <em> time </em>he’d lost. </p><p>He was thirty six, or so the Ministry reported his age to be when they were able to return him from the veil earlier that year (though Harry loved to tease his vain godfather that perhaps his years in the veil had aged him doubly instead of not at all). He had no real peers. Mr. and Mrs.Weasley, for example, didn’t ride a motorcycle, or make a habit of going to pubs, or play exploding snap. Bill and Charlie, who were closer to his age, hadn’t grown up in the seventies. The trouble was that most wizards at age thirty six hadn’t left Hogwarts over twenty five years ago. Hermione liked to solve things; to label and understand and categorize them. And Sirius fell firmly into the ‘miscellaneous’ box.</p><p>“But. This is the lap of luxury compared to Azkaban,” he was saying, “we even have a mattress!”</p><p>“One,” she laughed.</p><p>“That’s yours, by the way. I’ll sleep on the floor.”</p><p>Her eyes widened. “No! I can. It’s your room.”</p><p>“Which means you’re the guest. I insist,” he grinned. </p><p>To her surprise, she realized she was blushing. “I could—tell the stupid one that we’ll reveal the Secret Keeper if he’ll bring us another mattress.”</p><p>He laughed, then looked at her seriously. “Do you… you know what, nevermind. We shouldn’t say.”</p><p>She nodded. </p><p>He picked up the motionless moth, cradling it in one hand. “<em> Rennervate, </em>” he whispered. Nothing.</p><p>“What was that about twelve years of practice now?” she teased sarcastically.</p><p>But on his second try, the creature perked its antennae up and fluttered away in a burst of speed. </p><p>“So, wandless magic,” he began. “First of all, you’re never going to have the power and precision that a wand would bring. So don’t beat yourself up if your stunner doesn’t actually stun. Even if you can just knock them back, for now, you know you’re on the right track.”</p><p>She nodded, wishing she had parchment and a quill. </p><p>“One thing I didn’t realize at first is that you’ve got to imagine the path the tip of your wand would normally follow. Not the handle. I noticed you’re moving your hand more or less the same way you would if you were holding a wand. But the spell you’re used to casting doesn’t happen here,” he said, grasping her palm and extending her arm, as though she was casting. “It’s out here,” he used his other hand to point about a foot in front of her hand, where the tip of her wand would be. </p><p>She didn’t realize that it had gotten chilly until she felt the warmth of his hand on hers. </p><p>He continued, explaining how the movement in her hand was a different shape and size than the shape of the spell cast in the air. Each time he mentioned her hold on the wand, he would squeeze her palm for emphasis. When he finally released her hand, she realized she hadn’t been listening for awhile, but she thought she understood the general principle. </p><p>“<em>Stupefy </em>,” she practiced, visualizing the tip of her wand in her hand.</p><p>“That looks better already. Now we just need to find where our little friend went,” he said. “<em>Lumos. </em>” </p><p>She rolled her eyes. “Are there any spells you don’t have wandlessly?” </p><p>“Hey now, most girls would be pleased to find themselves locked up with a good looking bloke who can defend them without a wand,” he said, acting offended. </p><p>“Sirius,” she said flatly, “we’ve been through this. It’s the twenty-first century, we don’t call adult women ‘girls’. And I don’t need defending.” </p><p>“If you prefer to rely on your own impressive skills, that’s fine by me. And I do try to remember that you’re not a swotty little fifth year anymore, you just make it hard sometimes.” </p><p>“Bugger off.”</p><p>“I will after you stun this little guy three more times.”  </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Plans</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sirius woke the following morning to Hermione tapping insistently on his leg. He opened his eyes groggily, wondering briefly why he was on the floor.  </p><p>“Sirius,” she whispered excitedly. “Are you up?”</p><p>“I am now,” he grumbled, pulling himself up to a sitting position. </p><p>“I have a plan.”</p><p>As he washed the sleep out of his eyes, she chattered enthusiastically. “First we’ll pull the mattress against that wall,” she gestured to the one opposite the main door. “We can pile some clothes underneath a blanket to make it look like you’re laying on it. When they bring in breakfast, I’ll speak to the guard and tell him that you’re sick, or injured. Bleeding out, really—anything to get him to come into the room to check on you. But you’ll actually be here—” she pointed, “—behind the door. And as soon as you have a good shot at his back, you can hit him with your best stunner. Then we have keys and a <em> wand</em>,” she beamed. </p><p>He nodded, considering carefully. Now that there were two of them, the options were opening up. This was a good start. “Let’s do it this evening, though. We’ll have the advantage of darkness when we get out. And we should move the mattress now,” he offered. “Let them see it when they bring breakfast—they’ll be suspicious the first time they see it in a new spot.”</p><p>“That’s… actually a really good idea,” she said, thinking aloud. </p><p>“Don’t act so surprised,” he said, with a smirk and an eye roll.</p><p>The one called Pyrites appeared at the door later that morning. He bent down to slide a tray of food through the slot at the bottom of the door, then stood and peered through the window at them. “Redecorating?”</p><p>Sirius raised an eyebrow at Hermione, wondering if her plan included this. Her mouth opened and closed, eyes widening.</p><p>He swept in. “I don’t like the sun in my eyes in the morning. Always preferred to sleep in late before breakfast.” He strode over to the tray. “What’s today… bread again? Lovely. We’ll be sure to tell all our friends about our wonderful stay.”</p><p>“Speaking of that.” He was surprised to hear Hermione’s voice. “If I could have a word?” Sirius had no idea where this was going. </p><p>Pyrites chuckled, sticking his pudgy face up to the window. “Whore. Mudblood. Cunt. That’s three.” he jeered. </p><p>He could see her jaw clenching as she smiled sweetly. “Clever. Now. It’s the sleeping arrangements. See, before, we each had such a lovely bed of our own. But now that you’ve brought me in here, one of us has to sleep on the floor. So, if you could just nip up to that room down the hall and bring the other mattress that’s not being used… you wouldn’t mind, would you?”</p><p>The guard scoffed so hard she thought he’d cough up a lung. Then a slimy grin spread across his face. He raised his wand and enlarged the mattress to the size of a queen bed. “There you go, Black, snuggle up to your Mudblood tonight,” he laughed, making his way down the hallway. </p><p>She turned toward him and shrugged. </p><p>“Did you seriously think he would bring another bed?” </p><p>“No,” she laughed. “But this will be nice. I was just trying to see if he would spill anything about the other room being used. I’ve been wondering why they moved me in here.”</p><p>“Like maybe someone else got captured?” </p><p>She nodded. “But I suppose we don’t know either way, do we.” He watched her fiddle with her hem for a moment before she brightened again. “That was quick thinking earlier.”</p><p>He returned her smile.</p><p>An hour or so later, another guard appeared at the door. This one, with the thick eyebrows and hooked nose, Sirius had taken to calling Gargamel in his mind. They’d just gotten rations, so he supposed he was here to interrogate him. Or Hermione. Or both of them. </p><p>“Against the wall,” he called, pointing his wand at the window. </p><p>They obliged, Sirius grimacing slightly as he braced for impact. But the curse Gargamel cast only bound his arms to his sides. Another stream of light hit Hermione and he saw that she was also bound from the waist up.</p><p>The guard unlocked the door. “Hurry up,” he said, sounding bored. </p><p>He stole a glance at Hermione, who looked just as confused, before Gargamel yelled, “out!” </p><p>
  <em> This is new.  </em>
</p><p>Tentatively, they followed him out into the hallway. Sirius wondered for a moment whether he could successfully head-butt the guard unconscious. It would be difficult for them to escape, or even unbind themselves, in their current state. </p><p>They followed, turning left at the end of the hall, then entered a door Gargamel indicated on the right. </p><p>They stood in a large room, tiled in white from floor to ceiling. On the right hand side were multiple shower stalls. Across from this, Lestrange, Pyrites, and three other guards were sitting on a long bench.</p><p>“Nice of you to join us, Black.” Lestrange stood, the others following suit. “Mudblood,” he nodded at Hermione. “I didn’t realize how much blood traitors stink after a few days left to themselves.” The others laughed. Lestrange gestured to the showers. “Please, any one that you choose.” </p><p>Sirius stood rooted to the spot. Anger ignited in his stomach. </p><p>“There are no doors.” There was a distinct bite in Hermione’s voice. </p><p>The Death Eaters laughed.</p><p>“Well, we need you where we can see you, now, don’t we?” A slimy grin stretched Lestrange’s face. “Come now, there’s plenty to choose from. Mudblood, how about this one here?” He pointed to the stall directly across from his seat.</p><p><em> Perverted greasy fucking psycho. </em> Sirius strode over to take the stall in question. “I already had my eye on that one—I know you’ve got a thing for Blacks, anyway, Rodolph’.” He took his place under the showerhead, assuming as confident a pose as he could muster without any mobility in his upper body. </p><p>“Quiet,” Lestrange spat.</p><p>It was immensely satisfying to watch those beady black eyes twitch. “I don’t often bathe under a partial Body-Bind… or were you planning on rubbing me down yourself?”</p><p>“<em>Segmentum </em> ,” he sneered, and Sirius felt magic slice into his shoulder. <em> Not too deep, </em>he thought, grimacing to himself. </p><p>Pyrites spoke up, “you’ll have five minutes unbound. Don’t think of trying anything.” On queue, the death eaters each readied their wands. “Mudblood. In,” he jabbed his wand toward the stall next to Sirius.</p><p>Hermione slowly made her way over and took her place underneath the showerhead next to his, on the other side of the divider. If he stayed in this spot, he could only see her head and shoulders. <em> At least she’ll have privacy from one person in this room, </em>he thought grimly.</p><p>Two jets of red light sailed across the room, and they were unbound. </p><p>“It’s very kind of you to think of our needs,” came Hermione’s voice, “but I washed in the sink this morning. So.” </p><p>“You have two choices. Tell us where Potter is hiding, or <em> strip </em>,” Lestrange enunciated the last word. A fiery orange light exploded on the tile in front of them, emphasizing his point. </p><p>Sirius’ stomach sank. He saw her shirt come up over her head in his peripheral. “So Rodolph. Rode? Actually, you don’t mind if I call you cousin, do you, cousin?” He was talking as quickly as he could think. He unfastened his jeans, dodging a spray of yellow sparks that flew from Lestrange’s wand.  </p><p>“Do you like it if I strip slowly, or do you prefer a big show all at once?” He pulled the waistband of his drawers down with his thumb, thrusting his hips out suggestively. </p><p>The next jet of spikes caught his thigh. He ground his teeth. “You lot are quite the masculine bunch. Where’s Alecto these days, cousin—couldn’t get her out of Azkaban? Does she put out, or only for her brother?” A short Death Eater seated on the end snorted. Sirius pulled his jeans off, tossing them with a flourish toward his new audience member. </p><p>“Hurry up, Black,” Lestrange drawled lazily, flicking his wand at the shower. Ice cold water drenched Sirius, soaking his tee shirt and drawers. </p><p>Lestrange turned his beady eyes on Hermione. “I see you wore something special for us, Mudblood.” They roared with laughter. She would be in her underthings too, then. He heard another jet of water and she gave a small gasp.</p><p>He glanced at the guards who sat in front of Hermione’s stall. Gargamel and one with sandy blond hair seemed to be most directly in front of her. “How about you there, blondie,” Sirius ad-libbed, “you’re going to see this cock <em> one way or another </em>… shall I give it to you an inch at a time, or do you like it fast?”</p><p>Lestrange shot another slicing hex at Sirius, but Gargamel was laughing, elbowing Blondie in the ribs. <em> You morons are going to make this easy, </em>he smiled to himself. “I suppose you had to make the water ice cold,” he teased, hesitating for effect to see who else’s eye he could catch. “Give pizza face over there a fighting chance of having a bigger cock than someone in the room.” Blondie seemed to like that one, and Sirius noted that he’d earned another chortle from Shorty. </p><p>He pulled his shirt off, catching Hermione’s eye. He sent her a wink, and she raised her brows at him in return. <em> Plenty of fight left in her </em>. </p><p>“Don’t hide from us, now, Mudblood. Where is Potter? Or shall we get you out of these wet clothes?” They cheered. Hermione was silent. Sirius heard a ripping sound and she whimpered, turning to face the showerhead. </p><p><em> Twisted fucking monsters... </em> “Come on Rodolph’, put on a real show. Do you even know the incantation for a Cruciatus Curse? Come on, right here,” he pointed at his chest. “Or is it that you don’t have the stones?” </p><p>But it was Hermione that Lestrange flicked his wand at. Sirius’ heart sank when a moment later he saw her bra levitate up over her head and land in the middle of the room. Anger flamed inside him as he heard another rip and a handful of pink fabric followed. The guards hollered with glee. Her eyes were fixed on the tile. </p><p><em> Do fucking something! </em> His mind raced. “I always pegged you for an ass man, cousin. Oh Circe— <em> pegged </em>! I wasn’t even trying, I swear.” He ducked as another spray of magic shot at him. None of them dared laugh at their chief, but Sirius had a few of their eyes on him now. “Pizza face, just ask Blondie if you don’t know what that means.” That earned him his biggest laugh yet. Only Lestrange stared at him coolly. </p><p>“Tell me, Rodolph’, before she was killed by a housewife, did you ever take my cousin’s ass? Or was it usually the other way—”</p><p>“<em>Stupefy </em>!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Bella</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“<em>Rennervate </em>,” Hermione tried again. </p><p>“<em>Rennervate. Rennervate </em>.” Finally, he came to.</p><p>“Hello,” Sirius blinked slowly, looking around. “Back at home then, are we?” </p><p>She snorted, getting up while he gathered his wits. “I think I might need more help with that one, when you’re up for it.”</p><p>“Sorry, what?” </p><p><em> He must be really out of it. </em>“Reviving. It took me about a dozen tries,” she sighed. “And the moth's dead.” </p><p>“Wait, I just—can we let the records show that Hermione Granger is asking for my help?”</p><p>She smiled, even as she rolled her eyes. He was beginning to sit up, and suddenly she remembered that he was still only in his trunks. “Here’s your jeans,” she said, feeling heat rise on her neck. “I hung your shirt in the loo, it’s still soaking.”</p><p>“Thanks.” He took the trousers from her and stepped into the toilet out of sight. “How was the… the rest?” he asked through the open door. “The showers, I mean. Sorry I got myself stunned, that makes sense, now, in retrospect, that he was going to do that.”</p><p>“Wait, can we let the record show that Sirius Black just apologized, <em> twice </em>?” she laughed. </p><p>“Touché.” He raised an eyebrow at her.</p><p>“It was fine. I mean, not good, obviously. But there wasn’t really anything else you didn’t see.” </p><p>He cleared his throat, stepping back into the room to look at her. “I didn’t. See anything, I mean. The divider came up to about here,” he gestured to his collarbone. He was still shirtless. </p><p>She looked away. “Ah. So only six men watched me undress.” </p><p>He looked away. “They’re… disgusting. Had they done that to you before today?”</p><p>She shook her head. </p><p>His jaw worked. “Just try to picture them rotting in Azkaban.”</p><p>She was contemplating for a moment about just how well Sirius could imagine that scene when he spoke again. “I’m sorry about the… uh...  language, back there..” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I was only saying all that stuff to try to get them to look at me.”</p><p>“I know.” She offered a tight smile. “Thanks.”</p><p>He stepped back into the toilet and cast a drying charm on his shirt. “Do you want one as well?” he asked. </p><p>“Hmm?” </p><p>“Oh, your clothes... “</p><p>She looked down at herself. Her wet underclothes had soaked through her shirt and jeans. “Oh.” Her cheeks felt warm. “Sure, that would be nice.” </p><p>“It might take me a few tries, let me see… <em> Airecalidum. </em>Hmm, any better?”</p><p>“Um, a little?” She tried her best to remain stoic while Sirius waved his hand over her body.</p><p>After a few more casts she was nearly dry. “Thanks.”</p><p>“What about your… I saw that they sliced through your—your bra strap, do you need that repaired?”</p><p>“Oh.” Her face felt hot. “I was always pretty handy with Repairing Charms—I think I’ll give it a go on my own.”</p><p>“Right. Sorry.”</p><p>“Hmm? Oh, no, don’t be.” Her voice sounded high.</p><p>“Thanks. I mean, not—god, nevermind.” He shook his head. </p><p>“Well,” she tried to sound lighthearted. “You know what I’d like?” </p><p>“Please, tell me,” he smiled.</p><p>“I would like it if we got the hell out of here.”</p><p>------------------</p><p>They discussed their plan for escape for the better part of the afternoon, anxiously awaiting the evening meal. Sirius practiced his Stunning Spell until he felt he could do it wandless, wordless, and probably asleep, with excellent accuracy. Hermione fussed over the positioning of the blankets, tucking the false body in just so<em> . </em> They discussed each detail in hushed tones, offering small improvements. Hermione whispered the lines she would say to the guard. She had to sound panicked enough to get him to enter the room, but not so much that it was suspicious. After a few hours, Sirius noticed that they’d had a productive, agreeable afternoon together. He thought about saying as much to her, but didn’t want to upset whatever delicate karmic balance had granted them the small blessing.</p><p>When they guessed it was about a half hour before the guard would be arriving with their evening rations, they took their places. They had decided not to make conversation from this point on just in case anyone walked by. Hermione walked over to the bed, worrying loudly over the pile of blankets and casting mending charms. Finally, they heard footsteps. </p><p>“Guard!” She screamed. “Finally! Sir! Please… I’ve been calling for someone. Sirius is hurt, can you please come quickly?”</p><p>Sirius’ heart thudded in his chest. He breathed deeply. From his position next to the door, he could see her expression even in his peripheral vision. He avoided looking at her, in case she returned his glance and gave them away. </p><p>The guard must be at the door now. “What do you mean?” demanded a voice. Blondie, maybe? </p><p>“Please, we need help! He’s bleeding, heavily! It’s from what they did earlier—<em> please </em>, I need a wand!”</p><p>A scoff. He held his breath. Then the jingling of keys. </p><p>An anxious excitement was rising inside him. They had come up with the last part together: she’d mention another guard injuring him somehow, to pique his curiosity. Then she would ask for his wand—something for him to say no to—so they could get him where they actually needed him. And it was all going to plan. </p><p>More jingling. But the door wasn’t opening. </p><p>“Get back. Center of the room, now.” She obliged.<em> He’ll stun her, of course </em>. But that was okay. It all depended on Sirius now anyway.</p><p>“<em>Stupefy! </em>” Her body slumped to the ground. Sirius heard a sharp breath that he realized was his. </p><p>
  <em> Fuck, did he hear that? </em>
</p><p>The keys rattled in the lock again. <em> Any second now…  </em></p><p>The door swung open, and the guard tentatively approached the mattress. It was Blondie. Sirius held his breath as he waited for the door to close, giving him a direct line of sight. </p><p>A red stream of light. Blondie dropped with a crunching sound. <em> Thank God </em>.</p><p>Sirius practically skipped over to the crumpled body to get his wand. He grabbed a shoulder, turning the heavy body over. Then a sickening sensation came over him as he realized what had made the crunching sound. </p><p>The guard’s wand was broken almost in two, a thin strip of wood barely holding it together. With a frustrated grunt, he chucked it across the room. Sirius cast a Body-Bind spell, satisfied with his second attempt, then aimed a careful <em>Stupefy Duo </em>directly at his chest for good measure. Next, he set on reviving Hermione. </p><p>“There’s no wand,” he explained quickly, as she came to. </p><p>“What? What do you mean?”</p><p>“It broke. We’ll have to continue without it.”</p><p>“Fuck!” she cursed. </p><p>He raised an eyebrow. “We’ll be okay. You stay behind me, and we’ll just try not to be seen.”</p><p>“Maybe we should wait and try again.”</p><p>“With another guard? There’s no way they’ll ever get that close again after this.”</p><p>She nodded, chewing her lip.</p><p>“Then they’ll probably split us up, and then who’s going to scold me all day?”</p><p>She looked taken aback. “I thought today was going well,” she said. </p><p>He felt a twinge of regret. “It is,” he squeezed her arm. “We have keys now! Come on.”</p><p>They crept about the halls, not seeing anyone for several minutes. They appeared to be in some kind of dungeon. Sirius whispered that it might be a property of the Lestrange estate. Twice they turned a corner and found themselves in the same hall they’d started in. </p><p>“Do you think it’s been enchanted?” she wondered aloud. </p><p>“Might be. We need to clear out of here, they’re going to come looking for the one we stunned soon.”</p><p>They spotted an unfamiliar half-staircase and tried their luck going up. When they reached the landing, they heard footsteps coming around a corner. He pressed them into the wall, standing as still as possible. He’d tried his best to Disillusion them, but it would’ve been neater with a wand. </p><p>The footsteps gradually became quieter, and they breathed a sigh of relief. </p><p>They found another half-stairway relatively quickly, making him hopeful that these corridors hadn’t been enchanted the way the dungeon level was. But even on this level there were still no signs of an outside door or window.</p><p>“We probably won’t find a window in these hallways,” she whispered, as if reading his thoughts. “Let’s try one of these doors.”</p><p>They paused outside the nearest one, listening for sounds inside. Tentatively, he reached for the handle. It was unlocked<em> . </em> They stepped into an office with high ceilings. It had several ornate bookshelves, a chaise, and a large desk. An owl hooted softly in its cage. <em> Shhh, </em>he willed. </p><p>“That’s how the owl comes and goes,” she thought aloud. He followed her gaze to a small window, high on the wall. </p><p>He eyed it doubtfully. “I don’t know if even you could fit—” he began.</p><p>“<em>Maybe </em>if you levitated me—” she said at the same time.</p><p>Their eyes met and he allowed himself a soft chuckle. “Great minds think alike.”</p><p>She smiled, “better if they think of the same <em> useful </em> idea though…” </p><p>“I don’t suppose trying to blast our way out is an option?” He eyed the brick outer wall.</p><p>“I just don’t want them to hear, in case it takes a few tries. It’s not like we can just apparate safely if we’re spotted…”</p><p>He ran his fingers through his hair. The owl hooted loudly. They heard more footsteps, then voices. <em> Fuck. </em>He pressed himself against the bookshelves. The footsteps were getting closer. “Get under the desk,” he urged in a whisper. The air rippled, and he hoped she was taking his advice. </p><p><em> Now if that bloody owl would shut up, </em>he prayed. </p><p>The doorknob turned. A figure stood in the doorway, casting his beady eyes around. </p><p><em> Lestrange. </em>Sirius swallowed.</p><p>“What’s the matter Bella?” he asked in a soothing voice, crossing to the cage.</p><p>Sirius cringed at the name. The owl rustled around in the cage, giving another loud hoot. </p><p>Lestrange lit a lamp with his wand. He was looking around the room. <em> We’ll be found… </em>Trying to think, Sirius grabbed a book from the shelf behind him and threw it to the other side of the room.</p><p>His head swiveled in the direction of the book, and Sirius seized his chance. “<em>Stupefy</em>!” He could tell from the pale red light that it hadn’t been entirely successful. The stunner hit its target, but Lestrange only stumbled backwards. “<em>Revelio</em>,” he cried, aiming his wand at the bookshelf where Sirius stood. He raised his arm to cast again just as he felt a Knockback Jinx hit him hard in the chest. </p><p>“I could always count on you to be sneaking around where you shouldn’t be, Black,” he wheezed. Sirius felt his limbs lock against his sides. </p><p>“In here,” Lestrange called out the door. “Find the Mudblood.” More footsteps. “You, get in here.” The shorter guard appeared over him, casting a levitation charm to begin moving him. <em> Back to the cell, </em> he thought grimly. He listened intently, trying to discern where they were looking for Hermione. Just as his body floated around a corner, he heard a faint, “She’s not in here.” Sirius prayed they were talking about the study.</p><p>------------------</p><p>Sirius tried to guess how long he’d been laying on the floor of their cell. Still unable to move, he couldn’t see the window, but only moonlight faintly lit the room now. He prayed for Hermione’s escape. He imagined her, curled under the desk and poorly disillusioned as they turned the room upside down. <em> But they would’ve found her by now if they were going to. </em>He had to hope.</p><p>Some time later, he heard footsteps and raised voices. A female voice. His stomach sank. The door opened and he heard a scuff, something being dragged. “—back inside where you belong!” came Gargamel’s voice. </p><p>She breathed heavily, making her way over to him. “<em>Rennerver—ate </em> ,” he heard her mumble. “<em>RENNERVATE. </em> No, ‘s not right. <em> Finite </em>.” Finally, he felt his muscles loosen. He sat up, rubbing his legs. </p><p>“My god, Hermione.” She was a mess. Curls wild, shirt torn and bloodied. One eye was deep purple and swollen shut. “They drag you in like this and you still took the time to unbind me?” </p><p>She smiled weakly, blood dribbling from the corner of her mouth. “Need healing,” she choked, before flopping onto her back. </p><p><em> Of course, you dolt. </em>He worked quickly, first doing his best to heal all of her visible injuries before examining her stomach and chest for any signs of internal damage. Thank god nothing seemed to be broken. When he had reduced most of the swelling on what looked like a sprained elbow, she was beginning to regain her color and sat up. </p><p>“Thank you.” </p><p>“You don’t have to. What did they do to you, love?” He found himself reaching for her hand.</p><p>“Beat the shit out of me, pretty much,” she said, smiling halfheartedly. “I’m much better now, thanks.”</p><p>“With their hands you mean? God.” The twinkle in her eye was unsettling him. “More interrogation?”</p><p>“No, he didn’t even ask about Harry the whole time... I think I made Lestrange mad.” The smile on her lips was growing. “I used his owl.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Watching</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You brilliant witch!” Sirius looked as if he could kiss her. “Who did you send it to?”</p><p>She returned his smile, basking in the new feeling of hope. “Ron. He’ll get it to Robards straight away. I told him there were at least six guards but there could be more, that we were being interrogated but not tortured—”</p><p>“Wait, why not tortured? Look at you.” </p><p>She regarded her ruined shirt. “Well, I didn’t know that was going to happen yet, did I? And anyway, that was nowhere near as bad as the Cruciatus Curse.”</p><p>“Just because they’re not using Unforgivables…”</p><p>“I was trying to avoid casualties. If they come storming in here thinking we’re on our dying breath, they could put themselves in danger. I told him it might be best if they trace the owl back quietly, then make their move when they have a solid plan in place.”</p><p>He was nodding.</p><p>“I also mentioned the wards on this room… Can you think of anything I missed?”</p><p>“No. No, that sounds perfect. Fuck, that was so good you got the owl.” </p><p>She had to press her lips together to keep from grinning. </p><p>“So now we just wait,” he said, pondering. “Well. You’ve earned the bed again tonight, that much is obvious.”</p><p>She laughed. “Hey, remember? It’s big now. We could—” suddenly she realized what she was suggesting. </p><p>But he didn’t seem bothered. “Sure, as long as you don’t mind. I already spent half the night on the floor.” He stretched languidly and walked over to the mattress, where the blankets were still molded into the shape of a person. </p><p>She watched him shake out the linens, then begin pulling the fitted sheet over the mattress. She felt a tug at the corner of her mouth. She couldn’t puzzle out whether it was the brutal beating she’d taken earlier, the waking nightmare that had been the showers, or the excitement of sending the owl; but something about watching Sirius Black making up the bed for the both of them made her feel like she’d swallowed a jar of fireflies. She strode over, trying to look natural, and joined him on the mattress. </p><p>------------------</p><p>“Get up! Lazy Mudblood. Up!” Hermione opened her eyes. It looked to still be night. </p><p>“You too, Black.” It was Lestrange. His wet, beady eyes shone through the window on the door. </p><p>They groggily stood, and before she knew it, a Stinging Jinx hit her in the leg. “Oof.”</p><p>“You’ve been sneaking around using things that don’t belong to you… <em> Punzada! </em>” This one hit her shoulder. She kept her mouth closed. “Now it’s time for you to give something to me. Black!”</p><p>She cringed. She hadn’t thought of watching someone else be interrogated. That would be its own form of torture. </p><p>But the next stinger landed, again, on her. An ‘mmf,’ sounded involuntarily as it struck her abdomen. </p><p>“Stop!” Sirius bellowed. </p><p><em> Of course, </em> she realized. <em> They’re going to make Sirius be the one to watch.  </em></p><p>“It’s very simple, Black. You tell me where Potter and his spawn are, and I’ll stop.”</p><p>“Coward,” he retorted through gritted teeth. </p><p>“<em> Punzada! PUNZADA! </em>” </p><p>Her whole body must be swollen up like Violet Beauregarde. Sirius’ jaw was clenched, fists tight at his sides. Hermione tried to catch his eye. </p><p>“Tell me, Black, Is it in Tutshill? Appleby?” Another flash of white light seared her skin with each guess. </p><p>Finally, Sirius looked at her. She gave a small, firm shake of her head. He nodded.</p><p>Lestrange must’ve caught the exchange. He gave an infuriated yell, sending an explosion at the wall behind them. Then he rounded on her again.</p><p>Hermione pictured Bella the owl, flying across Britain. She imagined the large, tawny bird flying on, closer and closer to Ron’s window as the night went on. Lestrange’s spells hurt less and less until they landed only with a dull ache. Moonglow dripped softly onto the owl’s wings. Hermione would endure days, weeks even, of these jinxes and fourth-year curses. <em> Bella. </em>She was named for one who had truly tortured her, and now she would save them. </p><p>------------------</p><p>“Are you okay?” Sirius murmured. She felt more healing charms. She tried to follow the tingle of magic as it trickled from the surface, dissipating down deeper under her flesh. </p><p>“Hermione? Stay with us now.” </p><p>She squeezed his hand back. “Mmhmm.” Blinking up at him, she saw that he was pale. “Are you okay?”</p><p>“Don’t worry about me”</p><p>“You look like Nearly Headless Nick,” she smiled.</p><p>He gave a clipped chuckle. “Just worried.”</p><p>“Don’t worry about me,” she imitated in his low voice. He didn’t laugh. “That must’ve been hard for you,” she said after a moment. </p><p>“It looked plenty fucking brutal for you, love.” He held out a hand to her, pulling her to sit up. “But yeah, to be honest, standing there while someone else gets pummeled like that isn’t my cup of tea either. Just, tomorrow,—or whenever,—if it becomes your turn to watch, we need to stay focused on Harry. Don’t say anything, I’ll be fine.”</p><p>She nodded.</p><p>As it turned out, later that day was Hermone’s turn to watch. Lestrange must have tired of it, because a different guard had been sent to interrogate Sirius. This one, who Sirius had affectionately referred to as Pizza Face, was much more creative with his methods. </p><p>For starters, he placed Hermione in a partial body-bind, positioned so that she was forced to look at Sirius. The variety of hexes and jinxes he used was much more impressive, as well, ranging from <em> Slugulus Eructo </em>to a surprisingly effective combination of a Tickling Hex with a Tongue-Tying Curse that made her certain, for several short moments, that he would choke to death on his own spittle. Then he would ease off for a few minutes, and just when Sirius’ breathing returned to normal, he would hit him with a devastating Searing Charm that made him cry out every time. </p><p>Hermione clung to her promise with all of her being. She recited Arithmancy equations in her mind. She tried hard to picture a baby girl with Ginny’s hair and Harry’s eyes. She quizzed herself on titles and order of the chapters of <em> Hogwarts, A History. </em> She thought of home, of the Burrow, of her parents. Mostly, she thought of the owl. <em> Bella, where are you now? </em></p><p>Finally, after what felt like several hours, the guard was gone. Sirius lay on the mattress, bloodied, broken, and heaving a slug. He dragged himself over to her to unbind her, as she had done for him, so she could help him heal.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Convincing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The rest of the night and next morning were comparatively quiet. A guard came with breakfast, and Sirius was surprised to see that it was Lestrange. </p><p>“Where’s your Mudblood?” he smiled through the window.</p><p>“Washing up,” he answered. “I don’t know if you lot knew, but it’s actually possible to do without an audience.” </p><p>He was surprised when Lestrange laughed at that. “Oh, that’s very good,” he said, voice dripping with oil. “Very good, Black. Tell her to wash <em> everything</em>.”</p><p>Sirius felt his blood run cold. <em> If he so much as laid a finger on her…  </em></p><p>“No curses or hexes on the docket today, Black,” he sneered. “I had something else in mind.”</p><p>------------------</p><p> “Fuck fuck <em> fuck! </em>” His hands crackled with magic. He had hardly considered himself to be in danger before, but now the dread clung to him like a dark blanket. He was a hostage, completely powerless.</p><p>Hermione appeared in front of the bathroom door. He scarcely noticed. “I will kill him myself when this is done!” He sent an exploding charm at the closet door. “I’ll tear his bloody eyes out!” He struggled to <em> Incendio </em>the mattress, giving a frustrated scream when it didn’t ignite. There was a burst of blue and green light. It ricocheted around the room, producing a cloud of orange smoke as it hit each surface, before finally fizzling out. </p><p>“Sirius! You have to calm down,” Hermione was saying. He looked at her for the first time since Lestrange had come by. Her face was tight with worry and her eyes were huge. <em> Already afraid of you </em>, he thought, cursing himself. </p><p>He strode into the bathroom and turned on the tap. Waiting for the sink to fill, he regarded himself in the mirror. Unshaven. Crow’s feet. More lines beginning to show around his mouth. <em> A real prince charming. </em> He plunged his face into the water. <em> Perhaps I could kill myself </em>, he wondered. He jumped at the soft knock at the door. How long had he been standing there? </p><p>“Are you… are you going to be okay?” Her voice was so small. An image of her in a pink jumper flashed in his mind. Her and Ginny, whispering in the hallway at Grimmauld place. Fourth- and fifth-years. He wondered if he would vomit. </p><p>“Don’t worry about me,” he finally answered. His voice sounded hoarse.</p><p>The morning sped by as Sirius sat on the mattress, lost in thought. Hermione pulled the bathroom door closed behind her, the sound pulling him back into the room. With alarm, he noticed the afternoon rays of sun filtering in through the small window. <em> That’s half the day gone already, </em> he thought grimly.</p><p>
  <em> “You will, or I’ll do it myself,” Lestrange said with a grin. </em>
</p><p>“Hermione, when you and Ron…” he began weakly. </p><p>She looked at him with curiosity. He trained his eyes on her feet. </p><p>He cleared his throat, trying again. “Harry mentioned that you dated Viktor Krum for awhile, after Hogwarts.”</p><p>“Yes…” she eyed him.</p><p>“Was it—were you together for very long?”</p><p>“A few months. Why do you ask?”</p><p>“I… fuck. Never mind.” </p><p> Minutes passed. <em> Time is running out, </em>a voice told him. “I—I need to speak to you,” he managed. “About earlier.”</p><p>She looked relieved. “I’ve been worried. They must’ve done something really bad—”</p><p>“Please,” he croaked, holding up a hand. But the words wouldn’t come. “It’s… so fucked,” he said softly into his hands.</p><p>“You’ll be okay,” she soothed, like he was the one that would need it. She crossed the room to sit beside him. “Do you want to talk about it?” </p><p>He gave a clipped laugh, shaking his head.</p><p>She studied him. “Well, I know you can be strong, Sirius. Remember, Harry would want—” </p><p>But the touch of her hand on his arm made him stand abruptly. “Lestrange w—wants…” he forced himself to meet her eyes. She still had that troubling look of concern on her face. “He’s going to…” </p><p>Her brows knit together as she joined him on her feet. “Just tell me,” she insisted.</p><p>He closed his eyes and enunciated clearly. “They are going to make me—lay with you.” <em> Lay with?  </em>“As in, sex. Tonight. He—Lestrange said he would watch.” His voice broke on the last word. “He’s still convinced one of us is the Secret Keeper, and they know the other ‘interrogation methods’ aren’t getting them anywhere.” The words were pouring out now, before he could think. “Frankly it sounds more like revenge, for your—our attempted escape. So he’s going to make me a bloody rapist, and he said—he said if I wouldn’t, he would <em> do it himself </em>.” Just speaking it aloud sent a shiver down his spine. He looked at her in anguish.</p><p>“Oh,” was all she said. Her expression worked, like she was solving a puzzle, but he couldn’t discern her emotion. “Right,” she said after another moment, looking paler. </p><p>“I won’t—I mean, obviously we won’t be doing that. But we can’t let him—<em> Circe, </em>I should’ve told you sooner so we could think of something together, I’m sorry, I just… I was so horrified I couldn’t think straight, and…” he let the words trail off. </p><p>“And this is why you… acted the way you did earlier.” She said it with a nod, more a statement than a question.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” he whispered.</p><p>“I suppose we’re lucky he suggested you as the first option,” she said, almost to herself. </p><p>Sirius cursed under his breath.</p><p>“Or would you rather it was Lestrange?” she shot him a look.</p><p>“No, of course not!” <em> God, no. </em></p><p>“They haven’t sent anyone in alone after last time,” she said to herself. Her eyes darted around the room as though she were looking for something. </p><p>“Are you… do you have any ideas?” he asked feebly.</p><p>She sighed, meeting his eyes. Her brow was still furrowed, but she seemed resigned.</p><p>He gave her a firm nod. “Look,” he began, knowing what she was thinking. “I think, if either of us knows anything, it’s time to give it up.”</p><p>“What?” Shock bloomed on her face.</p><p>“I know it’s dangerous to even say to each other here, now. But I think, if you are—or if I was—the Secret Keeper, I think it’s time we told them.”</p><p>Her surprise turned to rage in an instant, and her eyes were fire. She rounded on him, “how dare you? After everything we’ve survived? After all Harry’s survived! Just <em> give </em> the Death Eaters what they want?” She was winding her arm back for what looked like a furious slap. He caught her wrist as she continued to lay into him. “You’re talking about your godson!” She tried to wrench her arm from his grasp. “Ginny is going to have a <em> child</em>,” she scorned. He felt a fist collide with his stomach.</p><p>He grasped her other wrist in his right hand, pinning both arms to the wall behind her. </p><p>“Let. Go,” she seethed. </p><p>But he held tighter. “I can’t do this to you!” He pressed her wrists further into the wall. The rage behind her eyes flickered momentarily. Her face seemed to soften. </p><p>Then she was fire again. “You will not give up Harry’s family! How could you even think of doing that?”</p><p>He shook, knowing she was right. Slowly, he released his grip. He blinked. She was blurry in front of him. “What are we going to do?” was all he could think to say.</p><p>“You will do this,” she stated simply. “We will do this.” Her jaw was hard. She stared at him, embers still glowing behind her eyes. </p><p>“No. No!” He turned and sent several exploding charms at the wall opposite them. </p><p>“Sirius,” she began. He knew she would scold him for his violence, for not being productive or helpful. His hands crackled with magic. She laid a hand on his shoulder. “You need to control yourself so we can discuss this.” </p><p>A few minutes later, he returned from the bathroom. He dried his face on his shirt, hoping she would think it was all water.</p><p>“Better?”</p><p>“Better. You were right.”</p><p>“Good. I need to know, when are we—when is this to be done?” Her voice was low and calm. It helped.</p><p>“All he said was tonight. And Hermione, I will do everything in my magic and my power to keep him away from you. But I won’t touch you.”</p><p>“Sirius!” she practically shouted. “I need you to understand this: you must. We aren’t giving up Harry and Ginny and the baby. And if you can’t, or won’t, it will be Lestrange! And you know he’ll do it, after yesterday... ” she breathed out steadily, meeting his eyes.</p><p>He stood there, immobilized. <em> Useless </em>. It was terrible, because she was right. </p><p>“It could be worse,” she reasoned, starting to pace again. “It could be the Cruciatus. Or even Stinging Jinxes, enough of them, can be quite awful… This is just Lestrange thinking he can hurt us mentally. He’s—he’s desperate!” </p><p>He swallowed, letting her do the talking.</p><p>Her eyes were glowing again. “He is. He knows we sent the owl, he knows we’ll be found.” She was actually smiling now. She resumed her pacing. “They’re running out of time and he <em> knows it. </em>This is his last card.”</p><p>Hopefully. <em> What on earth could be worse? </em></p><p>“It’s been…” she glanced at the window. “If they traced the owl back successfully,—and I don’t see how they wouldn’t—they could be here anytime. We just have to go along with it until then.” </p><p>“That’s true…”</p><p>She turned to look at him. “So you will do it.” </p><p>It was a statement, but her face was waiting for him to answer. </p><p>He closed his eyes. And as though she had taken head in her hands and forced it up and down herself, he nodded.</p><p>“Good. Now. I understand that in order for you to… what I mean is that for a man… if we are going to be <em> successful</em>, you may need some—some encouragement.” Her cheeks were tinged with pink. He was going to die. “So if it seems—if this situation is too difficult for you, which is understandable, I can provide that. That encouragement.” She cleared her throat, and continued, barely above a whisper, “you know, orally.”</p><p>“Good god, Hermione,” he cursed. “I can’t… no. You can’t, I’m not going to ask you to give me a—”</p><p>“You’re not asking. I’m offering. It’s nothing I haven’t done before. So.”</p><p>
  <em> What?  </em>
</p><p>His expression must’ve betrayed him, because she scoffed. But the pink on her cheeks only grew redder. “I’m not still… if that was what you were asking, about Ron and Krum. I’m not—” she gave him a pointed look, “—inexperienced. There were two others, even,” she shrugged, acting nonchalant.</p><p><em> So, not a virgin. </em>Though the revelation was heartening, watching her blush more and more deeply even as she tried to prove how adult she was made his stomach flip. He wondered if there really were ‘two others, even’.</p><p>“Can you please,” she looked down, “try not to act so surprised?”</p><p>He was making this worse in every way possible. “I’m sorry, I...”</p><p>“You realize that Ginny is nearly two years younger than me, and she’s going to be a mother, right? I’m twenty-five years old, Sirius.”</p><p>“I understand that, logically, but…” he looked around the room, desperate. “Oh, there’s another thing—I could get you pregnant!” He felt his own blush rising. “I mean I would be… careful, and I won’t, you know, I won’t—but there’s still some risk, even then!” <em> Kill me... </em></p><p>“I’m on the potion.”</p><p>“You’re on the potion,” he repeated stupidly. “Right. Because you’re… are you seeing someone now?” <em> Why, why, why would you ask that? </em></p><p>“No!” She nearly laughed the word. “It’s just in case, you know, I met someone. Casually.” Then she smirked sarcastically, “like, in a dungeon, you know?”</p><p>He scoffed. “Okay, got it. You’re on the potion.” He sighed heavily. <em> But… but </em> … “But that doesn’t mean I should bloody— <em> take </em> you, without your consent!”</p><p>She huffed. “Please. If there were any doubts before, let it be known: I consent to this. You have my complete and enthusiastic consent. Please, let’s do this, so that our friends may live,” she deadpanned. </p><p>He snorted. “Wonderful.”</p><p>“Just pretend it is casual. You were down at Merlin’s Rest, and you picked up a brown haired witch. And this one was just,” she shrugged, “reading a book instead of—of whatever else you’re normally into. I mean, is the premise <em> that </em>far fetched?”</p><p>“<em>That </em>premise, no! That premise is very fucking normal, Hermione.”</p><p>“Good. Oh, you could call me something else, if that helps. Romilda?” </p><p><em> She’s insane. </em> “I am not sleeping with you and calling you another witch’s name,” he said flatly. </p><p>“Fine, you can call me Hermione.” </p><p>His stomach flipped at that, too.</p><p>“I was thinking earlier,” she carried on, “we wouldn’t even have to keep the memories. We can extract them. People go through terrible things during wars, and it’s very common to put the actual memories aside afterward,” she said, as though lecturing a group of fourth-years. “Or we could even have someone obliviate us, if you don’t want to risk remembering a thing,” she offered.</p><p>“Sounds like a date,” he sighed. </p><p>“I’m glad we’re on the same page,” she said firmly. “It’ll be a lot harder if we’re not.” </p><p>“Yeah.” </p><p>They stood in silence. After awhile, she excused herself to the loo. He heard the tap run for a long time. When she emerged her hair looked different. He couldn’t quite put his finger on her expression, either.  </p><p>“One other thing, Sirius… I just— I wanted to mention. Not to trouble you, but…” she looked down. “I can be a bit—nervous sometimes. When it’s with someone new. So. Not that I’d need a night of dinner and dancing first,” she laughed shakily. “But a little, um,” she kept her eyes fixed on the floor, “warming up would go a long way, for—for helping me be more comfortable.” </p><p>She was actually trembling. His heart would surely break. “Come here.” He gathered her up in his arms. “Of course,” he murmured, tucking her head under his chin. He hugged her until he felt her body relax a little. </p><p><em> Should have done this in the first place, </em> he thought. <em> Instead of trying to blow up the room she was standing in. Instead of bloody arguing with her this whole last precious hour </em> . He felt himself begin to accept it. They would keep Harry safe, and he would keep her safe from Lestrange. This was the way she had chosen. He would do this. <em> Besides, the Aurors could come at any time, </em> he thought. <em> Maybe nothing will have to happen.  </em></p><p>He planted a kiss on the top of her head, squeezing her shoulders as she pulled away to look at him. “We’ll go slow.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. The Act</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As they waited for the inevitable, Hermione tried to think of other things. The new Potter baby. The Aurors, hopefully close, by now. Every half hour or so one of them would make a weak attempt at conversation that was not about the task ahead of them. The other would then answer politely. It was all wrong. </p><p>“Sirius,” Hermione asked, “could you do me a favor?” </p><p>“Hmm?” He seemed to perk up. </p><p>“I was going to try to transfigure these jeans into a skirt. For, um… privacy. So I could just… keep it on, you know? But I’m pretty sure I’ll just ruin them and then, you know, no privacy at all.” <em> Why is my voice always so bloody high? </em></p><p>“Oh.” He seemed to be calculating. She held her breath. “Sure. I think I can manage that.” </p><p>“Shall I take them off or leave them on?” </p><p>He frowned. “Off would be a bit easier actually…”</p><p>“Sure. Well.” She considered for a moment. “Well,” she said, pausing again. “When in Rome.” And she pulled them off. He kept his eyes trained on hers. <em> Oh god. </em> She was standing in her knickers. Should she have gone in the bathroom and handed them through the door? <em> This is definitely wrong, </em> she groaned inwardly. <em> He already thinks you’re a casual sex weirdo… </em></p><p>“Thanks,” he was saying, from a hundred miles away... where he stood, next to her, holding her jeans. <em> And you’re in your pink knickers.  </em></p><p>She made herself focus on the spellwork. He did it in parts, first removing the threads and laying the pieces of fabric flat. Then he worked his way down the inseam, growing the fabric to join the two legs together on both the front and back panel. The spellwork was a bit crude, and it was slow going, but she knew her attempt would probably be even worse. He enlarged the sides, giving the skirt more gather. Then he made another pass over the whole garment, and it was lighter, more pliable. Finally, he threaded the sides together. That proved to be the messiest bit. A wand would certainly have helped, but it would be fine for… this. He held it up. </p><p>“That’s too long, isn’t it?” he asked.</p><p>“Maybe a bit. What if it ended around here instead?” She pointed.</p><p>With another wave of his hand, it was shortened. </p><p>She took it from him, stepping in. He held out an arm so she could steady herself. “Nice of you to help me get dressed before we have to undress,” she laughed nervously. </p><p>He gave her a tight smile. As she fumbled with the button, she realized her hands were shaking. <em> That should really help convince him that he’s not a rapist, </em>she thought. </p><p>“Hermione…”</p><p>“I’m fine!” She flashed a big smile.</p><p>“Are you sure about this?” he whispered, taking one of her stupid, trembling hands in his. </p><p>She met his eyes. “Positive. Just, like I said, a little nervous.” She tried again with the button, still feeling clumsy. </p><p>Finally, he gently moved her hands out of the way and fastened it for her. </p><p>“Thanks,” she breathed.</p><p>“I almost forgot,” he said, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “One more adjustment.” He waved a hand over the skirt, and instead of denim blue, it was crimson. “For the brave Gryffindor girl,” he said, and she thought his smile looked genuine. </p><p>“That’s very thoughtful.” She meant it. </p><p>She moved to sit on the bed, and he joined her. </p><p>“How about I rub your back? You can keep everything on for now,” he added. </p><p>“Ok.” </p><p>His hands were sure, and <em> so warm, </em>she kept remarking internally. As he worked his way from her upper to lower back, she realized how many knots she had from the Body-Binds and Stunners and sleeping on the old transfigured mattress. After only a few minutes, her breaths were coming slowly and more deeply without her even trying. </p><p>“That felt really good.” She turned to face him again. </p><p>“Then why are you ending it? You’re still full of knots, I can tell.” </p><p>“Because it’s your turn,” she smiled. </p><p>He raised his eyebrows, apparently not expecting this. But he obliged, turning his back. </p><p>“You could take your shirt off, if you want,” she suggested. </p><p>He stiffened momentarily, then reached back to pull it off. </p><p>“Do you mind if I do too?”</p><p>She heard him take a slow breath. “Please do,” he said, as though he was encouraging her to pass the mustard.</p><p>Hermione followed suit. She thought, not for the first time in this place, about her choice of bra on the day they’d taken her. She looked down at the beige balconette. <em> Not exactly red lingerie, but it could have been worse </em>. She wondered how he would react when he turned around and saw her like this.</p><p>She began by running her fingers lightly up and down the length of his back. She observed the individual muscles—prominent, at least compared to the men she’d been with. What she lacked in strength she tried to make up for in pleasant, soothing touches. She drew shapes and experimented with pressure. For a while it was hard to gauge if he was enjoying any of it. But when she ran her fingernails lightly along the back of his neck, a low sigh sounded from his chest. </p><p>She felt a responding tingle on her skin. “Good?” she asked, in what she hoped was a pleasant, breathy voice.</p><p>“Good,” he agreed. His voice sounded lower now. </p><p>She continued her work on his back, neck and shoulders, coaxing a few more sighs and even a quiet ‘mmm’ out of him before he turned to face her again. His breath caught, and she remembered that he hadn’t seen her in her bra yet. His gaze clouded over momentarily.</p><p>“Good?” she asked again, not sure if she was being cheeky or… what.</p><p>“Good,” he whispered. He sighed and reached for her hand. Then he surprised her by pressing his lips to her palm. She drew a shaky breath. </p><p>“I wasn’t done with you,” he teased. “Want to lie down on your stomach?” </p><p>As she was getting situated, they heard footsteps down the hall. “Perfect timing,” she muttered, feeling as if every muscle in her body was pulled taut. </p><p>“Hang on,” Sirius said, and cast a <em> Muffliato </em>. “I don’t know how well that worked, but it’s something.”</p><p>She wondered briefly what Lestrange would do if he realized he couldn’t hear them. <em> He probably wants a whole bloody show, sounds and all, </em>she thought, grimacing.</p><p>His face appeared in the window a moment later, and as his thin lips flapped indiscernibly, she realized the charm had been cast so that <em> they </em> couldn’t hear <em> him.  </em></p><p>“Now if you just turn that way instead,” Sirius nodded his head toward the wall, “we can pretend we’re alone.”</p><p>She did. As she worked to tune out the distant, muffled sounds of Lestrange’s jeering, she felt the mattress dip beside her. His body was warm. <em> We’re alone, </em> she reminded herself. <em> Just Sirius Black and I, nearly spooning on our shite mattress in our cold dungeon bedroom. </em>Just perfect.</p><p>His touch helped. If the first backrub he’d given her was functional and comforting, this one served a different purpose. He dragged his fingers in long strokes from her shoulder blades to the small of her back. He pressed into the fleshy parts where her muscles were still sore, and traced lightly down her spine, as though counting each vertebrae. Each time his hand swept down along her lower back, he touched a little lower, until he was on top of her waistband. </p><p>“I decided on a rule,” he said in a soft voice. She felt his hand smoothing over her skirt, down her hip and over her thigh. “A few rules, that is.” He continued the pattern he’d drawn on her back on the side of her hip now, dipping lower each time until he touched the skin at her knee. “First, everything slow. Very slow.” Up and down his fingers traced, dancing in little patterns on her skin above the waistline. Then he mimicked the same patterns of touch on her knee, below the hem of the skirt. </p><p>She began to feel warmer, either from the way he touched her, or perhaps from the sheer amount of heat radiating off of his body. “What are the other rules?” she swallowed.</p><p>“Just one more,” he said, squeezing her shoulder reassuringly. “I don’t touch you… <em> touch </em> you, I mean, until you ask.”</p><p>“You won’t break me,” she smiled bravely. “I’m asking, there.”</p><p>“That’s not what I mean.” His hand grazed down the side of her skirt again, agonizingly slow. “I mean really asking.” She tingled under his touch. Below her hem, he hesitated, drawing little circles on the back of her knee. Then just as slowly, he dragged the skirt a few inches higher. Her breath quickened. </p><p>“That okay?” he asked. The words were hot on her neck. </p><p>She turned to look over her shoulder at him. His eyes seemed darker. Black hair fell across his face. Seeming to follow her gaze, he tucked it behind his ear. She smiled, nodding. </p><p>He replaced his hand on her thigh, and she felt warm again. He continued his ministrations, fingertips dancing in light circles on her leg as he nudged her skirt higher. Heat traveled up her legs and into her core. She felt more and more comfortable. Confident, even. She felt his thumb on the back of her thigh while his fingers pressed lightly on the front. He rubbed a long, slow path down to her knee, then back up again to the middle of her thigh. He squeezed, and a breath escaped the back of her throat on an ‘ooh’. </p><p>“Good?” he didn’t need to ask. </p><p>“Yeah,” she breathed. He copied the motion, rubbing slowly down her leg and back up again. This time he stopped an inch or two higher and gave another firm squeeze. She felt his chest touch her upper back as he inched closer to her body. His palm began a third swoop down her leg. He dragged it up, higher, higher. But instead of the squeeze she thought would come next, this time he removed his hand, pulling the red skirt back down to cover her again.</p><p>She looked back at him again, brow furrowed in protest. A smile played at his lips.</p><p>“You liked that.” It didn’t sound like a question.</p><p><em>Yes, </em>she thought. She felt herself relax an inch further into the mattress. “And?” She smirked a little, trying to understand the game.  </p><p>He answered with a low chuckle. “You’re doing so good,” he said after a moment. Like a professor awarding her marks.</p><p>The words ran through her body, dripping like molten lead into her core. She heard a deep sigh escape her lips. When she met his eyes again they seemed to glitter. </p><p>There was a dark curiosity on his face. “What’s all this about?” He stroked the gooseflesh on her arm with the back of his hand. </p><p>It was her turn to answer with a coy laugh. She felt hot. Even if she wanted to explain, she didn’t know if she could. She watched his eyes dance between hers, searching her face. She felt that she was being studied. That he was reading her like a book.</p><p>“Will you lay on your back?” he asked after a moment. </p><p>Her breath hitched. She had pictured this happening differently. More clothed, possibly even under the sheets if Lestrange didn’t rip them off. <em> And quicker, </em> she thought. They could’ve been done by now, if— <em> If I hadn’t asked for... foreplay </em> , she cringed. She imagined things from his perspective. Forced by Lestrange in the first place, and then <em> she </em> had insisted that he coax and tease her like some doe-eyed girl. <em> It’s possible it’s worse for him this way…  </em></p><p>But then he murmured, “you don’t have to,” and his voice was so smooth and low in her ears.</p><p>“No, I want to,” she said firmly, as she rolled onto her back. He was propped up on one arm, and she found herself tucked into his side.</p><p>“You’re thinking,” he observed, resting his hand on her stomach. She twitched at the new touch, and he whispered, “Sorry.”</p><p>“No!” <em> This is all wrong. </em> His brow furrowed in concern. “It’s fine,” she tried to explain. “It’s all quite… I’m sure you can tell I’m enjoying this,” she blushed. </p><p>He relaxed. “Good.”</p><p>“But you don’t have to—I mean, I’ll be fine. You don’t have to do all this, is what I mean.”</p><p>He studied her, his thumb brushing back and forth against her ribcage. A sigh drifted from her chest. “So you<em> don’t </em> like it?” he teased. </p><p>She huffed. “I think we’ve established…”</p><p>He laughed, shaking his head. “I don’t know why I’m surprised at us not understanding each other, here of all places, but…” </p><p>She opened her mouth to explain, but he put a finger to her lips. Her eyelids fluttered involuntarily. He grinned, keeping his finger in place and his darkening eyes locked on hers. She felt a flame of frustration light inside her, warming her to the core.</p><p>“But—I was saying—you’re clearly having fun. And I’m definitely having fun.” He enunciated the second part, giving her a pointed look. “So until old Rodolph’ starts hexing me, I don’t think we need to be in any hurry.” He dragged his finger down to her bottom lip. The flame burned brightly inside her. “Remember that bookish witch I was supposed to meet at the pub?” He seemed to be waiting for a response, so she nodded dumbly. “This is how I would treat her.” And with his eyes still locked onto hers, he pressed lightly against her lip. As if he’d toggled a switch, she felt a dark shiver run down her spine. </p><p>He watched her reaction curiously, bringing his fingers up to rest against her temple instead. “Okay, Hermione?”</p><p>She blinked. <em> Was that an ‘are you okay?’ or an ‘is this okay?’ </em>“Mmhm,” she answered. </p><p>He let his gaze drift down past her collarbones. His eyes lingered on her breasts in the balconette bra, traveling over her stomach and back up again to look at her face. She felt warmth bloom over her chest and throat. She wondered if he noticed how quickly she was breathing.</p><p>She was shaken out of it momentarily as they heard Lestrange’s reedy voice. He was shouting, though it sounded far away. The charm obscured most of the words, but the meaning was clear enough. </p><p>“He’ll be wanting us to get on with it, then.” Sirius’ voice sounded different. Tight. </p><p>Fearing that the moment was slipping away, she grabbed his wrist, pressing his hand to her chest over the cup of her bra.</p><p>He tucked his chin to his chest, closing his eyes. “Mmmph…” it was somewhere between a sigh and a groan, and it was silk in her ears. It also had the added benefit of shutting Lestrange up. </p><p>He kept the hand on her breast stone-still, taking another two deep breaths before he looked up at her again. His eyes were almost sparkling. “Did I say…” he grinned, “that you were allowed to touch <em> me </em>?”</p><p>She flushed as her brain struggled to sort emotion into logic and words. He smiled, seeming to enjoy the effect on her.  </p><p>He brought his fingers up and across her collarbones, tracing loops across the tops of her breasts. Her nipples were stiff in her bra. <em> Please… </em>But she didn’t want to seem too needy. “What if I wanted to touch you?” she whispered.</p><p>He smirked, arching a brow at her. “You have to ask nicely.”</p><p>“Mmm,” she sighed. “Please?”</p><p>He picked up her hand, brushing a kiss on her fingertips before he placed them on his neck. “Have you always been so, hmm… obedient, in the bedroom?”</p><p>She exhaled another long sigh, which she tried to disguise as a laugh. “Have you always been so…” <em> Domineering? Creative?  </em>“Bossy?”</p><p>He laughed. “Depends on the partner, I guess.” </p><p>She let her thumb drift to his jaw, and he seemed to take this as an invitation to continue touching her chest. He traced an outline around the soft cups, barely ghosting against her skin. She felt gooseflesh spread under his touch. </p><p>“So responsive,” he remarked, almost to himself. She felt as if she’d just won fifty points for Gryffindor. </p><p>When his hand glided over the fabric of her bra a third time, she grew impatient. Surely he could feel how hard her nipples were beneath the cups? How they ached to be touched? “Sirius…” she whispered. </p><p>“Hmm?” he smiled. </p><p>“<em>Please, </em> touch me?” She laced her fingers into his hair and pulled.</p><p>“Mmmmfuck.” His eyes were lost momentarily. When he regained himself, he yanked the cup down, grasping her whole breast in his hand. She gasped. Lestrange was saying something but she could scarcely hear. She was held hostage by Sirius’ gaze. “That,” he nearly growled, “is what I meant—about you really asking.”</p><p>Warm waves of pleasure traveled from her nipples to her sex as he handled both her breasts in turn. He was gentle, then urgent; always deliberate. He glided over her sensitive nipples, then rolled them between his fingers, pinching lightly, earning a series of moans and whimpers from her.</p><p>He drank in the sight of her breasts, making her feel vulnerable and exposed and <em> wonderful </em>. Now his gaze met hers. He continued to palm her, to pinch her nipples, and she felt her skin turn to fire as he watched her face. </p><p>“Good girl,” he growled, and a jet of warmth pulsed through her core and into her aching sex. She had no words; the room was blurring. Then he was purring, “you’re okay.” His lips were suddenly close to her ear. “You’re okay, love. Breathe.”</p><p>She did, concentrating on the rising and falling of her chest as she tried to regain herself. “<em>You’re </em>good. How… are you so good…” </p><p>“Thanks.” A lopsided grin spread over his face. “Not too good, I hope?”</p><p>“And humble too.”</p><p>That earned her a real laugh. “I just mean…” There was something softer in his eyes. ”It’s like you go somewhere. I don’t want you to get lost.” </p><p>“Yeah.” She traced her finger up his neck, behind his ear. “It’s hard to explain. Sometimes it can be really, really lovely to, um… let go of control.”</p><p>He watched, amused and intent. The corner of his mouth twitched. “And you do that so rarely,” he said slowly, teasing.</p><p>She smirked. “I think that’s it, actually. When you’re with someone who can—can <em> take </em>control, it becomes so easy to give it up. And if you give up a lot at once, and it’s a little, um, disorienting, maybe?” </p><p>“Fascinating.” He appeared to mean it. “And all that just from telling you what a good little girl you are?”</p><p>She blushed furiously. </p><p>“I think I’d be remiss if I didn’t tell you that I find this all very sexy.” </p><p>Her stomach flipped. Somewhere inside, a small voice lamented that Sirius Black had just called her sexy—<em>very </em> sexy—and she’d probably never be able to share this with anyone.</p><p>“Let’s get on with it, yeah? I’m ready.”</p><p>He shook his head. </p><p>She pouted.</p><p>He grinned. </p><p>
  <em> Annoying.  </em>
</p><p>“Remember, about asking? Have to <em> want </em>it,” he emphasized. </p><p>She lifted her eyebrows. “Then please, keep doing what you were doing.” His hand went to her breast again but she stopped him, a smile playing at the corner of her lips. “With your mouth.”</p><p>His breath hitched. It was fun to catch him off guard. “Now who’s bossy?” he murmured. </p><p>“I said please,” she laughed.</p><p>“Mmm, you did.” He brushed his lips against her collarbone, then moved lower in a trail of kisses. He paused a little longer between each one. As his lips met the fleshy skin at the top of her breast, she felt his tongue flick out to taste her. Moving lower still, he placed an open-mouth kiss on the side of her breast. He inched toward her nipple, lips lightly brushing against her skin. But when he was just about to touch the firm peak, he backed off, instead hovering over it. He froze, lips parted, breath hot. </p><p>She groaned. He glanced up at her, a devilish look on his face. He kissed next on the underside of her breast, slow and luxurious, millimeters from where she wanted it. <em> Need it… </em>He continued a similar pattern on her other side until the skin of her whole body felt tight.</p><p>“Please, Sirius?” </p><p>“And there it is,” he growled, finally pressing his lips to her nipple. He sucked the hard peak into his mouth, grazing it lightly with his teeth. Her fingers wound tighter into his hair. “Fuck,” he mumbled against her, sucking harder. He laved at her other breast, and she felt his hand slide down to grip her waist. She sighed into his hair, pressing her legs together for friction as she imagined him licking and sucking elsewhere. </p><p>Seeming to know her need, he rolled his body slightly so he was partially on top of her. His knee pressed between her legs and she quickly parted them. She reached down to pull her skirt up to the middle of her thighs, giving him more access. His hand traveled lower, grasping her hip and pulling her into his leg. She felt his other hand behind her head, winding into her hair. </p><p>His mouth moved higher and he was kissing her neck. “I’ve often thought about grabbing hold of these curls,” he murmured. It couldn’t be true of course, but she almost believed it. She sighed into his neck. Her center ached for him. She moved her hips, pressing into his thigh. </p><p>“Will you take off your jeans?” she asked.</p><p>“Yeah.” His voice was low, almost urgent. He sat up, undoing his belt. </p><p>“Wait.” She grabbed his hands, “can I?”</p><p>He breathed in sharply, looking up at the ceiling. “Oh, Circe,” he whispered.</p><p>As she slowly pulled his belt through the loops, she admired the inky black trail of hair that led beneath his trunks. Her hands undid the button and she kissed just above his waistline. He flexed, tensing. Pulling the zipper down, she kissed again on the other side, using her tongue. </p><p>“I said I didn’t need…” his voice sounded hoarse.</p><p>“What if I’m asking nicely?”</p><p>He laughed darkly, letting her pull the jeans down past his hips. “Not just yet.” He pulled them the rest of the way off, then pushed her gently back into the mattress. He kissed her knees and thighs, inching her skirt up again. She curled her fingers into the sheet, breathing heavily. His kisses landed higher, on her stomach, up her ribs. His mouth found her breasts again, sucking gently on each nipple before continuing upward. His lips tickled her collarbone, her neck. An ‘ooh’ sounded from her throat as he nipped her earlobe. </p><p>She realized that as he had worked his way up with his mouth, he was also pressing more and more of his body into hers. He lay nearly on top of her now, placing his knee between her legs again. When he pushed his hips into hers she felt <em> him</em>. </p><p>She threaded her fingers into his hair, guiding his head to kiss the other side of her neck. At some point her other hand had found his hip, and now she pulled him into her. She heard him groan. Another light pull on his hair had him grinding himself against her, hard on her inner thigh. </p><p>Somewhere in the distance, Lestrange was laughing. Sirius moved his head to kiss the other side of her neck so she couldn’t see the door. He kissed the shell of her ear, then her neck, her earlobe. Each kiss was punctuated with a thrust of his hips. </p><p>She reciprocated, grazing her teeth against his neck and sucking lightly on his earlobe. Each low moan she solicited sent electricity to the junction of her thighs. His movement grew more urgent; soon he was grinding his length into her. He pulled her skirt higher until she felt her knickers were nearly exposed.  </p><p>“Sirius,” she breathed into his ear, “now, please?”</p><p>He moved quickly, propping himself up to look at her face while he pulled her skirt higher. Even as his hand found the lower hem of her knickers, he watched her carefully. </p><p>“You’re sure?”</p><p>“Yes,” she nearly whimpered.</p><p>Not wasting time, he slipped two fingers inside the leg of her knickers, feeling the soft skin of her upper thigh. She closed her eyes, her breath quickening. </p><p>“So good,” he whispered, as he brushed against her mound. </p><p>She rolled her hips, urging him to touch lower. He grabbed the crotch of her panties, pulling them to the side. “Fuck,” he groaned, “so wet.” </p><p>She cringed, feeling heat rise in her cheeks. “Sorry, I… couldn’t help—”</p><p>“Shut up,” he muttered, kissing her stomach, her chest. “Don’t ever say that, fuck.” He slipped his mouth over her nipple, sucking as he traced a finger down her glistening folds. He groaned.</p><p>She sucked in air as he rubbed from her entrance up to her clit. Then he took his hand away unexpectedly. “Do you know what that does to me?” he breathed against her breast. He pulled away to look at her, taking her hand in his. He guided her palm to his cock and pressed his length into her hand. </p><p>“Fuck,” she whispered—perhaps it was a prayer. She imagined him pressing himself inside of her, stretching her walls. </p><p>“Mouthy,” he teased. He removed her hand and pinned it above her head. Her eyelids fluttered. Her whole body seemed to blush. He held her wrist there with the opposite hand.</p><p>He traced her folds with his finger again, bringing moisture from her slick entrance up to her clit. He grazed it slowly, watching her. <em> Inside, inside, </em>she urged. He dipped lower again, circling lightly outside of her entrance. Her eyes pleaded with him. Finally, he pushed in. Further, further, until she let out her breath. He pulled out to thrust his finger into her again, and all she could say was ‘more’. </p><p>His eyes were black as he pushed a second finger in, more quickly this time. “Good?”</p><p><em> So fucking good. </em>She managed a nod, closing her eyes as he thrust into her again. As he found his rhythm, she began to feel a build inside. His thumb came up to press against her clit and she clenched involuntarily around his fingers. She heard a low groan rumble in his chest. He continued to thrust as the pad of his thumb worked her bud. </p><p>“Sirius,” she whispered weakly, “If you keep that up, I’m going to…”</p><p>“Yeah?” he looked so eager. Eyes glittering and dark.</p><p>“Mmm—mmhm,” she moaned. “So maybe we should… start…”</p><p>He paused, his expression flickering. An involuntary noise of protest sounded from her throat, and he smiled, resuming steady pressure with his thumb. She shivered. “I can make you come then, too?” </p><p>“Oh,” she said uselessly, while her brain went into overdrive. <em>Sirius Black is going to make you come, </em>she reminded herself. And then he was going to make her come again. Apparently. His fingers were still inside her. She shuddered. A smaller voice inside smirked, <em>the audacity, </em>and another one scolded, <em>greedy—who said you needed to come at all? </em></p><p>He pushed deeper into her. “Come back,” he whispered, brushing against her clit. She groaned softly. “Thinking too much,” he chided, pulling back to thrust into her again. His lips were on her neck. His breath on her ear, “be good for me, okay?” She moaned. The room was dark again, but the flame inside her roared back to life. “Just like that,” he whispered, fucking her with his fingers. She spread her legs wider. He moved his hand faster and she felt a tightening below her stomach. “Good girl,” he murmured, and there were white-hot sparks behind her eyelids. Her body melted into the mattress, into him. </p><p>He twisted his hand into her curls, tugging lightly. She felt the hair on the back of her neck rise, gooseflesh breaking out across her chest. She bucked her hips into him. He paused for a brief second, but before she could object he had added a third finger. His thumb continued to circle her clit as he plunged into her. She felt herself winding tight, tighter. </p><p>“Close?” he whispered. She nodded, eyes squeezed shut. “Look at me,” he demanded, thrusting his fingers into her pussy. “Look at me when you come.” <em> Fuck fuck fuck</em>. She was going to explode. </p><p>Her eyes snapped open, locking onto his. His stare bored into her, urging her on as he thrusted, finishing her with his hand. “God,” she cried, feeling the beginning of her release. A wave roared inside her as she clenched around his fingers. It crashed, breaking and rippling energy across her body. She felt a new slickness at her entrance as his fingers glided in, pressing hard into her. </p><p>“<em>Yes</em>,” his eyes blazed victoriously as she fluttered around him. </p><p>“Don’t… stop,” she murmured as she felt another small wave break inside her. </p><p>“Not gonna,” he whispered into her hair, working her bud under his thumb. Her muscles went slack even as her clit thrummed. She felt herself pulse softly against him, groaning another ‘fuck’ into his neck. His movements slowed slightly as she regained her breath. </p><p>“Now,” she mumbled, “You should—now, Sirius.”</p><p>He nodded, brushing a kiss against her forehead as his thumbs went to the waistband of his trunks. </p><p>Lestrange shouted something. She glanced at the window and a flash of white light caught her eye. His face disappeared from view. Her eyes snapped to Sirius’. Another flash, red this time. They scrambled up, reaching for their clothes. Sirius lifted the Muffliato Charm, then pulled his jeans on. </p><p>“Against the wall!” they heard outside. But the command was not directed at them. There was an exploding sound.</p><p>“Can you see anything?” Hermione asked as she pulled her shirt over her head. </p><p>“Some… Lestrange is gone I think. I’m seeing two people in body-binds, oh, fuck,” he exclaimed, “it’s Pyrites—Death Eaters falling!”</p><p>They crowded next to the window, watching flashes of red and white light fly past.</p><p>“They’re here—“</p><p>“How about that timing—“</p><p>They looked at each other and laughed. She felt his arms wrap around her, head swimming.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Statements</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The dark haired secretary popped his head out the door. “Ron Weasley, you’re next please.” </p><p>“You sure you don’t need anything?” Ron asked as he got up from his seat. </p><p>The question was directed at Hermione. Sirius observed them with a strange sense of guilt. He had noted the way Ron fussed protectively over her over the last hour. He tried to recall how long it had been since Ron had brought that short giggly witch to dinner. Had she been there a couple of times? <em>Not that it’s any of my business, </em>he thought, feeling slightly ashamed. He shook his head, still struggling to process everything. </p><p>The two of them had been fed, offered clean clothes and showers, and treated for their injuries while the Aurors gave statements. This report would be ‘one for the books’, they kept remarking. It had been the most involved incident since the war. </p><p>The takedown had been magnificent. All of the Neo-Death Eaters were taken into custody, and there were only a few nonlethal injuries among the Aurors that had fought to rescue them. Sirius only regretted that he hadn’t been able to see more of the fighting firsthand. </p><p>As the door closed behind Ron, Hermione leaned forward and spoke in a low voice, “I was wondering if we were going to get another moment alone together.” </p><p><em> Oh?  </em>“Yeah, what’s up?” </p><p>“Well, I was just trying to puzzle out…” she chewed her lip. “How much do they need to know? About—well, you know, certain things.” She lifted her eyebrows unnecessarily.</p><p>
  <em> Oh, you mean how we were forced to have sex with each other against your will but in the end if we had only stalled a few minutes longer I wouldn’t have talked you senseless with absolute filth until you had an orgasm with half my hand inside you? </em>
</p><p>He cleared his throat. “I don’t think every detail is necessary,” he began, feeling warm. “As far as testifying, eventually... they won’t make us do it in front of the whole Wizengamot. <em> Testify</em>, that is, in front of everyone,” he finished hastily. </p><p>She nodded, eyes fixed on her knees. </p><p>“Just bring up the matter of privacy first thing when you go in there,” he gestured. “Or I can do my statement first if you want, and get all that out of the way.”</p><p>“Sure,” she said, looking relieved. “Thanks.”</p><p>“No problem.” </p><p>When she didn’t say anything else, he assumed the conversation was over. So that was that; he would give his statement and it would be behind him. He could finally go home to his comfortable bed. She would do the same. Harry and Ginny would be able to come out of hiding again. Then they would all see each other at the Burrow on Sunday as usual. Back to ‘normal’.</p><p>“It’s going to be a bit strange going back to normal,” she mused. </p><p>He chuckled.</p><p>“What?” </p><p>“No, nothing—I was just thinking the same thing.”</p><p>“Oh.” She smiled.</p><p>“It’s funny, I was always certain we were going to be found. Before you got the owl out, even, but especially then. And now that we’re actually here it feels a bit… I don’t know.”</p><p>“Surreal?”</p><p>He looked at her. Twenty-something witch. Harry’s best friend, swotty Gryffindor. <em> Ministry witch, </em> he reminded himself. <em> And now, there’s the new information you can never un-learn about her, like the fact that she’s also a very, </em> very <em> good girl</em>. He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “Yeah.” </p><p>They were quiet for a long moment. Then, and he wasn’t sure what possessed him to say it, but he had to, “I still can’t believe the timing of everything.”</p><p>Color rose in her cheeks. She was chewing her lip again, looking elsewhere. He regretted saying anything. <em> You’re going to make her relive it now? </em></p><p>But he found himself unable to look away, and he caught her eye. He offered a smile. She grinned. He raised an eyebrow, and a giggle escaped her lips. <em> Well, fuck. </em>The effect was incredibly endearing. Then he couldn’t control it. A deep laugh bubbled up from his chest. She began to giggle furiously, and they laughed together for a long while. </p><p>When they regained themselves, she spoke again. “You know what’s kind of funny?”</p><p>“Hmm?” He was still smiling.</p><p>“<em>All </em>of that,” she articulated, “and we, um… we never actually kissed.”</p><p>Now that, he hadn’t expected. He blinked obtusely, trying to think of something to say. “I… I’m sorry, I probably should have started there.”</p><p>“No! No no no, sorry, I didn’t mean… I mean, not that… you didn’t <em> have </em>to, it was lovely—fine, I mean.”</p><p>“Don’t worry about it—”</p><p> “—and of course you did kiss other—<em>we </em> , I mean, each other. ‘<em>Each </em> other, <em> on </em> other,’ places, I meant to say,” she laughed nervously. “God, um, just nevermind. Sorry.”</p><p>She was actually hiding her face behind her hands. He shrank in his seat, feeling responsible for her embarrassment<em> . </em>“No, no, don’t worry about it. It’s completely fine. I mean, yeah. Usually there would be kissing first.” He sounded so stupid.</p><p>“Right!” her voice sounded higher. She was at least looking out from behind her hands now. “Just a kind of funny thing I noticed, that’s all.”</p><p> “Of course…” he nodded, trying, not for the first time this week, to give her a semblance of privacy by not looking at her. The awkwardness hung in the air. He could still feel a tingle of heat in his face as the seconds crawled by. When he couldn’t stand the silence he found himself asking, “would it have helped if I had kissed you first?”</p><p>She breathed in loudly. “Um, yeah. I mean, maybe.” Her eyes flicked over to his. “I mean, I don’t know, I guess. I like kissing—who doesn’t?” She laughed. “But just, don’t worry about it or anything. Things were—<em> everything, </em> it was quite alright without.” She laughed again. “I suppose we’ll never know.” It was relieving to see a slight smirk on her face. <em> Haven’t humiliated her completely, then, </em> he thought. He flashed her a warm smile. She laughed, relaxing. </p><p>He was just beginning to wonder about how she had come to think about them kissing when the door swung open and Ron stepped out. Sirius felt something inside him deflate. Hermione straightened. “Just you two left then,” he said to Hermione, nodding in Sirius’ direction as well. “Do you want me to wait?” </p><p>“You go on, we’ll be fine,” she waved. </p><p>
  <em> We’ll. </em>
</p><p>“Right. Well, get some rest, both of you,” he said on his way out.</p><p>“Hermione Granger,” said the dark haired wizard, “are you ready?”</p><p><em> Already?  </em>“I was hoping to go first if that's alright,” Sirius said, standing slowly. He couldn’t help but feel that something important was about to slide just out of reach. The sun would set on this day, this week, and then they would all turn into pumpkins. </p><p>“We’ll just be a moment.” Sirius caught Hermione’s eye. She looked on curiously.</p><p>“Very good,” the secretary nodded, popping his head back inside the door. </p><p>He thought quickly. “Well,” he said to Hermione, “<em>tomorrow </em> I suppose we can all get started on that ‘back to normal’.” </p><p>She nodded, still watching.</p><p>“But I think you may have been onto something about that kiss,” he said, lowering his voice. </p><p>“Oh?” she breathed.</p><p>He stopped in front of her chair. “Yeah, you’re right as usual. Doesn’t seem proper the way we left it.” He watched her carefully, and when her eyes clouded over momentarily, he knew. He placed a hand on either of her arm rests. Her hand came up to rest on his shoulder, and they leaned in close. Her breathing hitched slightly, a sound he realized was familiar to him now. Gently, he pressed his lips against hers. He felt her move in response, her hand squeezing his shoulder. </p><p>“Mr. Black, before we—Oh, sorry!” </p><p>He pulled back, sending her a last wink before he walked away.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading! There is a short epilogue coming in another day or two. Nothing planned for that outside of the original tags, but I'm considering adding some saucier future drabbles sometime that pick up where this story leaves off.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Epilogue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Hermione, could you pass the potatoes?” Mr. Weasley asked. </p><p>“Sweetheart, she’s been through enough. Ginny, be a dear?”</p><p>“Come on mum, I haven’t seen anyone but Harry in weeks and I’ve got a bun in the oven—what am I, chopped liver?” she grinned.</p><p>“Thanks Mrs. Weasley, but it’s really no problem,” she said, smirking at her friend. She passed the casserole dish down to Angelina.</p><p>“So, Harry,” Sirius broke in, “good to be back at the office? You missed a hell of a shootout,” he said, nodding at Ron.</p><p>“Don’t remind me,” he sulked. “I’ve never felt so useless in my life.”</p><p>“S’alright, mate,” said Ron, through a mouthful of ham. “Robards and I had it completely under control. Good of you to stay home safe with the family.”</p><p>Hermione caught Sirius’ eye, biting back a grin. “Robards and you, and, who else was all on the mission again?” she asked. “I remember about a dozen other Aurors but not many I knew…” She smirked, watching Ron’s ears turn pink. <em> Can’t let his head get too big</em>. </p><p>“I’m just so glad you’re safe,” Lavender fawned, wrapping her hand in his. </p><p>“That’s right, all of you,” Mrs. Weasley beamed, looking around the table. “Our little fighters,” her eyes glistened as she nodded at Hermione. </p><p>“What about me, do I get to be a little fighter too, Molly?” Sirius asked, flashing her a grin. </p><p>Harry snorted.</p><p>George piped in, “Sounds like it, mate. Ron said there was something in the report about you knocking one of them out without even using a wand. Is that how it was?”</p><p>It was too easy to keep catching his eye. Hermione made herself pour another mug of butterbeer. </p><p>“We probably shouldn’t say too much now,” Ron cleared his throat. “It’s all technically classified until the trial next month.”</p><p>“Speaking of, do you have a copy of the report I can read?” Harry asked.</p><p>“‘Course.”</p><p>“Oh, that’s fair,” said George.</p><p>“Well, next month,” Sirius began, “I’ll tell you all about Hermione’s plan that nearly got us out of there without any Aurors at all.”</p><p>She beamed. “It would’ve been impossible without Sirius, though. He’s really incredible with wandless magic.”</p><p>“You two seem to be getting on better,” Harry remarked. “Did you get a chance to work some things out while you were in captivity together?”</p><p>------------------</p><p>After dinner the boys and Angelina mounted up for their first ‘usual’ game of Quidditch in weeks. Ginny grumbled at first about not being allowed to fly in her condition, but after a while she seemed to be making the most of playing announcer. Hermione and Lavender sat on either side, laughing at the way she emphasized “<em>Weasley passes the Quaffle to Weasley—oh, no, intercepted—it’s a great play instead for Weasley!</em>” Ron scored and Lavender cheered him on. </p><p>“So who do you root for, your brothers or your husband?” Hermione asked Ginny. </p><p>“<em>That’s ten more points to the Gold Weasleys!</em>” she shouted, before smirking, “I have to admit I have a slight bias for the father of my child. <em> Potter scours the field, but there’s still no sign of the elusive Snitch!</em>” </p><p>George whacked Sirius’ Bludger away from Angelina, throwing him a rude gesture. Angelina laughed. </p><p><em> Everyone and their partner, </em>Hermione thought. She waited what she hoped was an acceptable amount of time before excusing herself and taking out a book. She let herself get pulled in, barely noticing when the Red Weasleys won. </p><p>“Finally getting your chance to do that research on wandless magic?” Sirius smirked. She hadn’t realized people were starting to clear out already. </p><p>She showed him the cover of the book. “Guilty as charged,” she laughed. </p><p>She was surprised when he moved to sit on the grass next to her. </p><p>“I haven’t gotten a chance to talk to you much since…” he seemed to be studying her. </p><p><em> You can’t blush every time he bloody looks at you</em>, she scolded herself. She flashed a smile, looking down. “How are you?”</p><p>“Good, today especially.” His mouth twisted into a lopsided smile. </p><p>She looked at him inquisitively. His smile brightened. She looked away, pressing her lips together to keep from grinning at him like a fool. “It’s nice seeing everyone again. Feels like it’s been forever.”</p><p>He nodded. “Hey, I was wondering... do you want to come by mine this evening? Or I’m free tomorrow, too, whatever's good for you.”</p><p>“Oh.” Her heart thudded in her chest. </p><p>“Yeah… I was hoping to pick your brain about something. What do you say?”</p><p><em> Oh, pick my brain. </em> “Sure.” <em> Maybe…</em> she let herself wonder. “Tonight’s good?”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“Sure. What about?”</p><p>“Hmm?”</p><p>“Oh—what did you want to talk about?”</p><p>“Ah…” He looked over his shoulder at the receding group of Weasleys and their partners. Her heart quickened again. “I’ll tell you when you get there.” <em> Maybe…  </em></p><p>He started to get up, and she wasn’t sure if she should follow. “Are you leaving now, then?”</p><p>“Yeah, but you don’t need to rush over. I was just going to… you know, powder my nose,” he grinned. </p><p>She heard a high pitched laugh and realized it was coming out of her mouth. “Sure, so, it’s…” she checked the time, “almost eight now, so… so maybe at…” she looked at him dumbly. <em> When? </em></p><p>“Whenever,” he shrugged. </p><p>How did he manage to look so casual all the time? “So like, a half hour—”<em> no, that’s probably way too soon </em> — “o—or two?” she stuttered. <em> Idiot, idiot, idiot.  </em></p><p>“Sure,” he smirked, “Whenever. I’ll be there.”</p><p><em> Just tell me what bloody time to show up! </em> “Oh, so two in the morning’s fine?” she joked, rolling her eyes.</p><p>“Sure,” he grinned, and her stomach flipped. Then he just repeated, “I’ll be there.” She had almost remembered how to speak again when he said, “See you soon, Hermione,” and disappeared with a light pop.</p><p>------------------</p><p>Sirius literally jumped out of the shower, pulling on a white tee shirt identical to the one he’d just been wearing. After he finished dressing, he wand-dried his hair, pacing in front of the mirror. He checked the time, then remembered that it was pointless. He couldn’t stop replaying their conversation in his head. </p><p>
  <em> It’s nice seeing everyone again. Feels like it’s been forever. Guilty as charged. Two in the morning’s fine? Please, Sirius, don’t stop…  </em>
</p><p>“Fuck,” he said aloud, stomping down to the kitchen to pour himself a finger of firewhiskey. He was just beginning to wonder why in the stupid rotting hell he didn’t just tell her what time to show up when the doorbell rang. He jogged up the stairs.</p><p>“Hey.” Her hair looked different. And had she been wearing makeup at the Burrow?</p><p>“Hi. Your nose looks great.” He looked at her quizzically before she smirked, “freshly powdered?” </p><p>“Touché.” He stepped aside to let her in. “You’re a lot of fun, Hermione. I’ve always said that about you.”</p><p>“Right, that’s how I remember it,” she said sarcastically, swatting him on the arm. It was already going better than he’d hoped. He brought her down to the kitchen and put the kettle on. He had thought about sitting upstairs, but this was the only room they had ever made any good memories in. </p><p>“So, Ginny’s going to look ridiculous in about a month,” he said. </p><p>She laughed. “She’s already got such a cute bump.” </p><p>“You think Harry’s ready to be a dad?” <em> Everyone’s so grown up now, and all that…  </em></p><p>“Definitely,” she smiled. “I’m so happy for them. I wish you could’ve seen him when he was proposing to Ginny. Oh god, and the wedding,” she said sadly. “You’ve seen pictures though, right?”</p><p>He nodded in appreciation. “Nice of you to think of me.”</p><p>“Well, we’re ‘getting on so much better now’,” she mocked with a laugh.</p><p>He rolled his eyes. “Circe. I couldn’t decide if I was going to laugh at that, or…” He paused, careful not to embarrass her again. “So you really think I’m incredible at wandless magic, then?” he smirked. </p><p>She returned his expression. “Obviously.” He felt light. She seemed relaxed. <em> Probably doesn’t hurt that we drank butterbeer all afternoon. </em>“I didn’t even ask, do you prefer wine instead? Or I do have Ogden’s…”</p><p>“Oh.” Her eyes seemed to brighten. He watched her cross her legs, first on one side, then settling on the other. <em> Good signs</em>. “Sure, do you have any red?” she asked.</p><p>He tapped the kettle with his wand, cooling it. “<em>Accio! </em> Bloody handy having these things again, isn’t it?” He transfigured her teacup into an ornate wine glass for emphasis. Looking at the saucer, he thought for a moment, then changed it into a daisy. He worried momentarily, wondering if it was too much, but she picked it up and laughed in agreement. </p><p>“God, I know. I can’t believe how much I took for granted before.” She swished her wand at the daisy, turning it into a sunflower. </p><p>“Not a daisy girl?” <em> Shit. </em> He bit his tongue, readying himself for the lecture on how to address grown women, but she was quiet. He noticed instead that her cheeks were tinged with pink. He wondered for a moment until he realized. <em> Oh. </em> That was good. <em> Fuck, that could be very very good. </em>Suddenly he knew what he wanted to say. </p><p>She cleared her throat. “My aunt and uncle lived next to this huge field of sunflowers. We’d visit when I was little, they were about three times my height.” </p><p>“Lovely.” He turned toward the counter, hiding his grin. “This is a port, hope that’s ok. It’s quite a vintage,” he said, uncorking the bottle. “Nineteen sixty two.”</p><p>“Oh,” her eyes widened, “Sirius, you don’t have to…”</p><p>She never used to say his name so much. “I want to. Besides, I don’t get enough chances to drink Walburga’s wine.” </p><p>“Oh,” she giggled. “In that case…” </p><p>“Cheers,” he grinned. </p><p>She sipped. They locked eyes over the rim of their glasses. If he had doubted it before, that lovely flush of hers was now quite apparent. “Delicious,” she said in a low, relaxed voice. </p><p>He drank in the sight of her, held hostage by her presence. “Hermione, I never asked,” he grinned, sliding into the chair next to hers, “have you been well?”</p><p>He watched her chest rise and fall as she looked at him, not understanding the game yet. “Yeah. Yes, very.”</p><p>He laid his arm on the table next to hers, brushing her hand with the backs of his fingers. He repeated the motion again and her eyelids fluttered. He studied her. “And…” his eyes drifted down to her mouth and back up again. “Have you been<em> good</em>?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Please read: appreciation &amp; notes about the future...</p><p>THANK YOU all so much for reading! Wow. This is my first fic I've finished and first bit of writing I've ever really shown anyone aside from my partner. It has been so special reading all of your comments and knowing that there are people out there enjoying this. I'm truly blown away.</p><p>YES I hear you asking for more... progress... in their relationship - oh MAN, I never realized how much of a letdown it could be for you dear readers that they don't fully consummate their relationship in this story! Please don't flay me when I say I just didn't see that as a part of THIS particular story.  </p><p>Another story though? Oh yes.</p><p>You've given me your ears (eyeballs?), so now you have my word, that we'll get to see more into this Hermione and Sirius' world and relationship! I've been working on a drabble / part two that's already turning into another shorter story. I will absolutely post something by 9/8. It will be a new work under the same series (series now called Held Hostage). I don't know how long this will be or if there's potential for multiple chapters, so I'm not promising more than a oneshot for now. But you will not. be left. hanging! So, if you're reading, stay tuned :)</p><p> </p><p>UPDATE - Held Hostage II: Released is up! Just click 'Next Work' below!</p>
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